Move
by tinedanxer
Summary: Formerly titled "Live Wire" Movie-verse/AU. *Gore warning* An accident creates a mutant. A Decepticon trains an assassin. A pair of prisoners try to save the world.
1. Finding The Mark

**I don't own Transformers or any of the characters (with exception of those I make up). They belong to their respective owners. **

**This is my first fanfic, so bear with me. I love to write and love Transformers, but I have never combined the two before now. I already know how the entire story will go, barring some minor changes along the way. I hope you will enjoy this. BTW... Massive Props to my hubby who, despite his disdain for reading/writing, has been helping me out. I'm not always that witty, but he certainly is, so all the good come backs are his, not mine! Ha! Ha! Also, this will get intense and maybe a bit gory, but I will put warnings on the top of the chapters about that. This chapter has some blood in it. I just wanted to establish the viciousness of the one of the characters, and explain some background relevant to another.**

**I put this as an adventure/romance, because there will be a bit of romantic tendency between two characters--especially at the end, and bit of sexuality sprinkled throughout. How far, exactly, I will go with that... I'm still undecided.**

* * *

Finding The Mark. 

Thick, blonde-streaked, brown hair in two braids dropped down onto each shoulder of the nervous misfit as she absent-mindedly scratched at her upper right arm producing the faint squeak of fingernails on metal.

"Stop that."

She stopped mid scratch pulling her hand away quickly. "Can't help it," she said quietly, her eyes scanning ahead expectantly.

"Learn," She looked up to see the stern red optics focused on her disapprovingly. The dangerous black face looked back out at the same distance she had been watching. "You know it doesn't come off."

She frowned. No, it wouldn't. Just like the rest of what drove her to near insanity. This body. This oddly mixed up, half human, half mechanoid body. It would be the torment of the rest of her life, however long that may last. At least she was back on Earth. But this was not exactly a source of joy. She was here under a false pretense. One year had passed on Earth while training to be a Decepticon assassin--it was all a guise to get back to Earth. This world would never welcome her back in the form she now had, but that didn't quench her desire to save it.

A sudden amused thought struck her. The Decepticon jet she stood next to in the open aircraft hangar had not only uttered more than three words in a row, but they were all in English! This was rare for the quiet, calculating behemoth. A small smile tugged at her lips.

Across the darkened horizon a wicked thunderstorm flashed its impending rage. Each strike of beautifully arced light danced from storm cloud to ground, a painful bridge, a necessity that would destroy in order to bring new life. The brewing storm would be coming in at about the same time as the companion they waited for.

She hoped he would beat the rain, dreading the inevitable, _Grab a towel and dry me off, MUTANT—and watch the paint!_ She sighed, he wasn't really that vain, he just liked to torment her—pushing her around and blaming her for anything and everything. Despite all this, she knew he had a twisted sort of fondness for the little assassin he had spent so much time meticulously training. Even so, his reputation rested on her success, and he had made it deathly clear she would not be allowed to smirch it.

_Speak of the devil, literally,_she thought as a few large drops began to hit the pavement. She ran to the back of the hangar to grab a towel as a Saleen Mustang police cruiser screeched through the hangar doors. Leaving black skid marks down the length of the concrete floor. He stopped exactly where she had been standing, knocking her back against the wall. Such rough treatment was his favorite entertainment. She considered whipping the towel at his headlights, but the tall black Decepticon still standing by the open end of the hangar shook his head once in warning. He would not have it. It would only mean a fight that he would need to step into so as to prevent them from damaging each other. There were more important things to waste energy on.

"Wipe it off, _Mutant."_ She narrowed her eyes at Barricade as the police car sat expectantly, waiting. But she dutifully got up and began carefully soaking the rain water off his lustrous black and white surface. "And watch the paint! I don't want to see any scratches _or_ water spots!" She knew he was smirking to himself triumphantly in there somewhere.

As she ran the towel over his back and sides she couldn't resist the jab once more, "You still have those markings wrong, idiot. I'm telling you, only the dumbest of humans would fall for a police car that has the words, 'to punish and enslave' written on one side and a Decepticon emblem where the police badge should be, _B__lock Head!_" She stepped back having finished the quick wipe down, knowing he would try to knock her over again as he transformed.

"Shows what _you_ know," He said swinging an arm in her direction as he transformed.

"Predictable." She quipped leaping into the air in her signature aerial somersault, landing perfectly. Barricade sneered at her and thrust his hands, palms upward, toward her revealing a nauseating amount of human blood. The little half human, half robot, cyborg felt her weapons systems arm reflexively at the implications of what he had done.

Sensing her weapons come on line, he pulled his hands back and grinned maliciously,"You wanna _play_?" But he suddenly straightened up and turned to face the much taller, all black Decepticon who had stealthily walked up behind him.

"Well?" The taller robot looked down at Barricade expectantly.

"Still nothing. But I'll find them, Commander Skyfire. It's just a matter of time."

The little cyborg's weapons still armed, she considered, briefly, a nice fat electric jolt to Barricade's legs, but decided against, knowing the repercussion for interrupting the conversation would be more severe from Skyfire than from Barricade. She would not cross Skyfire; retaliation would have to wait.

The taller Decepticon turned and strolled thoughtfully away to watch the storm again. Barricade stood still for a moment then shook his hands at his sides, casting little flecks of blood across the concrete hangar floor. Peering over his shoulder at her, "Women and children," he goaded, "They scream the best."

She took the opportunity. The cold pulse of electricity traveled down her arm, gaining strength as it extended out to the legs of the mech standing just in front of her. Letting out a hard breath, his back arched and knees buckled. As he fell she activated a cloaking device-part of her weapons arsenal-warping light around her entire body to make it appear as though nothing were there where she stood, and simultaneously concealing her Decepticon energy signal and body heat from any scans. The only thing she couldn't cloak was smell and sound. Barricade no sooner hit, knees to the floor, then whirled around to pounce, but she was no where to be seen.

"I can still hear you," He stated, his head turning to follow the softly running footsteps.

"Hear this _Bee-och!"_ De-cloaking, she flipped him off.

"Enough," came the deep, quiet voice of the other mech still watching the lightening from the front of the hangar. Barricade froze glaring at her.

"Hey, it's not my fault _Rosy Red Palms_ got himself all worked up chasing squishies instead of tracking Autobot energy signals and now he wants to vent his failures!" Barricade looked murderous, but he quietly remained where he was. Skyfire turned just enough to give her a warning look and she, too, fell silent.

Setting the hangar doors to close the enormous black Decepticon walked away from the front of the hangar. "You need to prepare. You will be following the mark tomorrow. No contact. Surveillance only." He stopped in front of her. "No games."

She made a face. "No fun." (Barricade grinned.) "I suppose I'll be hitchin' a ride with _Super Trooper_ to the school?" Skyfire gave a single nod in reply. "Do you have any idea how that will _not _go over? How exactly am I supposed to explain that--given that you put in the school profile that my fake 'parents' are airline pilots, _not_ policemen? I'll look like I'm arriving from the penitentiary! It won't _jive_."

"Be creative."

She shrugged. "And the scout?"

"No contact."

"Not even just a little?" Red optics narrowed slightly. "Can I walk past him?" Red optics narrowed more warningly. "You're no fun."

He turned and strolled towards a large open space in the hangar, "This is your assignment, not your entertainment."

* * *

A motionless sea of sand stretched out around her. Sand dunes formed in waves that seemed frozen in time. The dry desert air hung hot and heavy. Four fighter jets crossed overhead, the whine of their engines the only acknowledgment of their stealthy existence. Soft thumps sounded behind her. An annoyed Barricade was struggling to wade through the sand, each step sinking deep, filling his lower leg joints and hinges with the gritty substance. 

Her comm crackled with the Air Commander's disdainful voice, "The base is ahead, Barricade. The fools are actually on high alert. It appears they have tried to lay an ambush for us. Let's see what your little minion can do!"

The two dark figures on the ground crawled up the back of a dune, lying flat at the top to avoid detection. Without a word Barricade pointed to a set of black rectangles peering out of the sand not far away. For a moment his red optics bored into her, gaging her reaction. Then he nodded toward the concealed guard bunker, her signal to go.

She could feel herself cloak, wrapping the darkness around her, just as the dread wrapped around her heart. These were the very people who would capture her only to take her apart piece by piece in the name of scientific research, but she still could not justify what was about to become of them. Inside, she silently screamed even as her body began picking its way along the edge of the dune keeping the footprints concealed behind its crest. Circling around to the back of the guard bunker she could make out the shape of the open door. She shook her head, knowing they had propped it open for ventilation and that this had made her job much easier.

"Live Wire, report in when you have taken out the guard bunker," Starscream's voice scratched out over the comm. Within she screamed for the guards to close the door, maybe then they would know she was coming, not that it would do them any good. They never heard a sound.

Three long, curved blades sprang from their sheaths along the back of her mechanoid arm. Entering the bunker she silently wrapped that arm around the neck of a soldier peeking out through the rectangular windows. The sharp blades pulled easily through his neck meeting only slight resistance and they tugged through his windpipe, his cry of alarm gurgling into a raspy death. Stunned, the other guard reached for his falling companion, only to feel the invisible three inch blades slice through his armour and then into his chest. Too late, he jumped back against the wall and slid down, face ashen, lips turning blue, clutching at his shredded heart.

"Guards dispatched." It was her voice, but she didn't want it said, didn't want it to be real. Her mind railed against these actions, even as her body stalked forward, following the next set of instructions. Trapped within, she could do nothing to stop the madness.

"Proceed to the radar tower--_and be quick about it!"_ The impatience was evident in Starscream's voice. He may be having second thoughts about bringing her on this raid, but Barricade had insisted, claiming it was part of her training.

The computer lock on the door was no match for her. With a light touch of her mech hand, and a change in the frequency of the same dangerous current she used as a weapon, complete access could be gained to any computer processor, human made or even mechanoid. Inside, she found the radar tower nearly empty, and these men were not wearing as much protection, trusting to their shelter and alarms to keep them safe. They also died quickly and silently.

Mechanoid hand retracted, replaced by a smaller version of the EMP (Electro-Magnetic Pulse) cannon a certain black Autobot was infamous for. One blast took out the entire radar systems as well as the command center one floor below. The soldiers running out into the stairwell were all met with a wild but invisible onslaught. Each fell to a bloody death. Anguish ripped through her trapped soul as one human after another fell in the fury. She could not stop this killing machine, locked inside, screaming for it to be over.

"Radar offline. Command Center offline. Humans dispatched." She heard her own cold voice again. "Bring the rain." A smile snaked across that blood smeared face. The blood of her victims.

"That's more like it." Starscream sounded almost pleased as the bombing began. Loud thunderclaps and double booms sounded all around the small figure climbing over bodies to reach the outside.

Before her eyes stood a tank, rolling forward, muzzle tracking something above and behind her. Another EMP blast flared out from her, racing along the reinforced pavement and stopping the tank dead in its tracks. Starscream transformed from F-22 Raptor to robot mode above her head and came to hoover a few feet off the ground and several feet before her. Taking in the sight of the imobilized tank, he twisted his head around to peer at her over his shoulder.

She immediately dropped to one knee and bowed her head in submission to the Decepticon jet, "All yours, Lord Starscream." He said nothing, just turned back to the tank. With a movement so quick it was hard even for her to see, he leaped on the tank indescriminately tearing out chunks of fleshly bodies along with the tank armour, flinging both into the air around him.

Behind her came the familiar squeal of rubber on pavement. Barricade plowed through running soldiers, making sure to cross back over their bodies a second and third time. Overhead, Skyfire light up the night with the muzzle flare from his 30 mm cannon as he strafed the small base in his black SU-47 Firkin mode. The carnage around her was dizzying, and again she cried out silently from her soul's prison within. At the other end of the base, Thundercracker and Skywarp transformed into their respective robot modes and began stalking through the dark, blasting this tank, that rocket launcher, mowing down scores of human solders. Her internal scream for them to stop could not be heard. She begged for it to end, but the sound of her cries never made it outside her body. She tried to close her eyes, but they remained open to the all the chaos, death, destruction. Anguish rocked her, as her silent screams ripped through her soul.

And then it rocked her again. _Little one..._ came a familiar voice. Another rocking motion, _Little one awaken..._ Slowly she could feel herself being pulled out the nightmare. Desperately, she embraced the retreat, clinging to the sound of his voice. "Wake up, little one. Wake up now." The gentle giant's black face swam before her drowsy eyes. She blinked the sleepiness away, concentrating on Skyfire. It had been just another nightmare. Her fragmented mind recalling crimes against humanity in an unconscious world. Softly she began to cry. The anguish of the dream rolling back over her as she remembered how it had played out in real life only months ago. They had been cruel killers too, but did they really deserve to die like that?

"Shhhhhh. Quiet, little one. Just a dream. Just a dream," He soothed.

She wiped the tear streaked left side of her half mech face, and looked around at the darkness inside the hangar. From her perch on Skyfire's chest, though the large mech lay on the floor, she could see Barricade in a deep state of recharge across the hangar. A large black hand reached up and blanketed her comfortingly. The security brought with his touch calmed her somewhat, chasing away the remnants of the dream. She curled up under that protective hand and slowly began shutting down unnecessary systems hoping to catch some more elusive sleep before the dawn.

* * *

"Let me out here." 

"This isn't the school."

"What's the matter, _Reno 911_, afraid I might play hooky? Just let me out here before these kids can see me getting out of a police cruiser." She frowned, "Well, what's _supposed_ to look like one anyway."

The black and white cruiser pulled off to the side of the road a few feet from the parking lot entrance farthest from the school and opened its passenger door. She heaved a sigh staring at the imposing sight of the high school—_join the Decepticons, conquer the universe, oh! and relive __your__ high school __years! _The cruiser jerked forward, door still open, retrieving her from her thoughts. "I'm going," she said reaching down by her legs to grab a black backpack before exiting the vehicle, which promptly slammed the door shut nearly catching her in it.

"Oh! You wanna be nasty? Wait till I get back and we'll _play!_" She breathed, taking a swing at the hood with her bag.

"Promises." He growled back. But she just winked and turned on her heels toward the school.

Walking along brisquely she began nervously adjusting her body hugging long sleeved brown hoody, pulling the hood over her braided hair. The jeans she had found at a second hand store were frayed at the leg cuffs and a little loose in the waistband, causing them to hang low on her hips. This outfit was a bit warm for the season, but she dared not risk exposing any more of the metal that dappled her body than necessary. Especially the large purple insignia on her upper right arm; the one that she occasionally scratched at during bouts of nervousness.

As she weaved through the various cars and trucks parked in the student's parking lot, she spied him. The scout. Hard to mistake that bright yellow camaro. She found the urge irresistible. Despite Skyfire's orders to the contrary, she couldn't pass up the opportunity. Deliberately, she made her way towards it. Making certain her energy signals were concealed and the hologram projection covered the metallic luster of _that_ half of her face, she sauntered up to the front of the parked camaro.

And stopped.

A slow, devious smile spread across her face.

Reaching a tentative left hand out towards the hood of the camaro she heard a chirp, like the sound of a car alarm warning of an intruder's proximity.

"Relax," she purred. And slowly advanced her hand. Fingertips lightly rested on the edge of the hood. "Camaros were always my favorite." She shifted her weight provocatively, taking a small, seductive step towards the vehicle. "Yellow was never my thing, but… you make it look _good_," she continued, looking up through her eyelashes with a honey dripping smile. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes and lifting her head, "You smell like finish lines and racing trophies." Head up to bear a graceful ivory neck, eyes still closed, with a slightly pleased, soft expression. "The places I could take you, things I could do…" Dragging her fingers lightly across the hood behind her as she sauntered away, "See ya, Scout."

A few feet from the yellow camaro she heard it chirp again, and turned to give it a flirtatious back glance, before skipping off to the school. _I don't see why I _can't_ enjoy my assignment. A little fun never hurt anyone._

* * *

"Well, Miss…" the elderly lady with a thin, stiff back peered at the papers in front of her, "Miss… _Wire_, it says here you are a new transfer." She paused, "How do you pronounce your first name? It looks like 'Live,'" she pointed to words printed on the paper turning it around so that the new student before her could see. 

The student frowned, _I'm gonna pound Barricade! He did that on purpose._ Looking up at the School Counselor in front of her, she smiled meekly, "That's a typo. It's Liv—as in Liv Tyler? My parents are big fans of the actress. I was named in her honor." _Rip out all the wiring I can reach under his chest plate._

"Oh. Well. We'll have to fix that won't we. I'm afraid it's already been entered into the system the wrong way, though. Sorry about that. When will we be meeting your parents? I'm surprised they didn't come with you on your first day. Your father said he had urgent business to take care of when I talked to him on the phone. I hope he isn't one of those non-involved types." Absentmindedly she threw in, "He _did_ seem a little strange on the phone, though."

The new student, pseudonym Liv, smirked, "If you talked to _my_ father on the phone, that _would_ be strange," she said, remembering her childhood status as being: orphan, ward of the state, both parents deceased, no known living relatives.

"Pardon me?" The School Counselor looked up from her papers.

"Oh, I just mean to say that my, uh, father, is a bit strange. I guess all that flying around did something to his brain. You know, lack of oxygen and all that."

This garnered a disdainful over-the-glasses look from the Counselor. "I see." She glanced back at the papers on her desk and quickly searched for one in particular. Handing it over to the new student, she announced, "Well, let's get you into your classes, shall we?"

* * *

The day had gone as she expected, Barricade having intentionally put things into her file to annoy and frustrate her. Things like her given Decepticon name instead of the decided upon pseudonym--which caused her to create an altogether new name on the spot and spend the rest of the day correcting teachers with regards as to how she should be addressed. She made a mental note to show him her appreciation this evening. True to the cause, he _had _made sure she was in every class with the mark, a certain Samuel James Witwicky, and she was able to sit in the back of the various classes watching him. Sam, as he preferred to be called, was comfortably oblivious to all this. 

This would be so easy, the boy was naive and trusting, not to mention completely focused on his budding romance with the the next mark, Mikaela Banes. The girl being more streetwise, might require an actual effort, however minor that may be. It would be necessary to eliminate both at once, to prevent alarming their guardian before an escape was possible. Unfortunately, the guardian was said to be obsessively protective. He may well have sensed the danger already.

Her musings were abruptly halted as a tall beefy jock, with a shock of blonde hair, stepped in her path. It was the classical school bully squad come to interrogate the newby. Live Wire was aware that her chosen hologram disguise was attractive, he may not want to pick a fight. She decided to remain aloof, straining against the temptation to put this interloper to shame in front of his peers. Looking up at him with a dismissive expression, she put her head down, shaking it lightly and moved to step around him.

"Hey, wait!" He made a grab at her left arm as she tried to pass. She stopped, again fighting the urge embarrass him, and looked up meeting his confident gaze. "You're new aren't you?" he asked softly. She studied him a moment debating her options, finally giving him a quiet nod. "I thought so," he went on, "I haven't seen you before, and I'd remember someone like _you_."

_No doubt, _she thought wryly, but said nothing.

"You know," he continued, mistaking her silence for shyness,"I'm going to the lake in a bit with some friends, maybe you'd like to join us? I'll let you ride with me!" She stifled a mocking laugh, letting herself smile instead, but his quick glance over her shoulder spoke volumes of his true intentions. Turning she saw Sam and Mikaela standing intimately close to each other just down the hall behind her. Mikaela's attention split between Sam and the scene that involved Live Wire at this moment_. Of course_, she realized_, the jealousy card. I can't get involved in this, I need her trust to complete my mission_!

Turning back to the jock, she pulled her arm out of his grasp and finally spoke, "Not interested."

"You sure? Do you know who I am?"

"Not my type, that's who."

"What?!" He cried in disbelief. This was fast becoming a scene; she needed to end it quickly.

"I don't do jocks. Not my thing," when he stared at her incredulously she meant to continue, but was interrupted by a voice behind her.

"Trent, leave her alone. Haven't you figured out yet that you _are not_ God's gift to woman kind?" Mikaela had come to her rescue. This could be advantageous. Live Wire took a more aggressive stance with this new backing, folding her arms in front of her chest with a smirk.

Trent spluttered something about being popular and the hottest thing around, but Mikaela had already put an arm around the smaller Live Wire's shoulders drawing her away from the group of jocks back to where Sam was waiting. "Some of us were going to the strip mall to hang out. Want to come? I promise, _Trent and his lackeys _won't be there," she said with a friendly smile. "What do you say?"

Live Wire returned the smile just as warmly, "That.. sounds great! But..." she glanced down and to the right before returning her eyes to Mikaela, "I... kinda have to check in with... someone," she finished avoiding Mikaela's eyes in the end.

"Oh, parents," Sam chimed in.

"Uh.. yeah... just can't seem to shake those authority figures," she quipped wistfully.

"Another year and we will," he shot back.

Live Wire dropped her head a bit, "No, Sam," she said quietly staring at the floor,"There will always be someone to answer to." Looking up at him she saw the mildly surprised and confused look he gave her. "Well, I'd better get this over with. I'll meet you there?"

"We can wait," he said. "You can ride with us."

Mikaela grimaced and was about to remark about the back seat being small, but Live Wire cut her off, "No, no. I'll just walk. It'll be good to stretch my legs out after being cooped up inside all day. Honestly, I don't know how you kids do it!" The last comment drawing strange looks from both, she made it clear she would not be riding in the yellow camaro. What a disaster that would be. The scout would _know_ something was off when her slim figure stepped into the vehicle and registered a contradictory 350 pounds. All those dense robotic parts were heavy.

* * *


	2. False Revelations

**I don't own Transformers or any of the characters (with exception of those I make up). They belong to their respective owners. **

**There is a rather bloody and descriptive scene in this chapter. I won't spoil the story for the steel stomached, but be warned. Another right after that scene gets some what bloody as well. **

* * *

False Revelations.

"It may not have been the same girl," Sam said dubiously, as he opened Bumblebee's driver's side door and swung his legs out. This drew a quizzical look from Mikeala.

"I think it was. She strikes me as kind of different." The passenger door opened to let her out.

"Maybe so," he said, still a bit doubtful, resting a hand on the glass window, "but I don't think she _knows_."

The mech sighed softly. She had sure acted like she knew what he was. Her words had been so provocative, flirtatious. It had been both flattering and alarming. His natural curiosity-on-overdrive was definitely piqued, but a scan of the Internet turned up nothing on the girl! Even though she had touched him, her fingers had strangely left no prints.

"Just be subtle Sam. Don't let on you know what she did, okay?"

"Yeah, okay, Bee. I'll be subtle." The Autobot cringed inwardly. Subtlety wasn't exactly Sam's forte, but relief came in Mikeala's response.

"Maybe... I should handle this, Sam. You know, girl to girl," she winked at the disguised transformer as she closed the passenger side door. "I'll find out what's really going on and let you know." This put him a little at ease for the soft spoken Mikeala was a tactful interrogator. She had a way of getting information without inciting suspicion.

"Thanks Mikeala," the mech breathed.

* * *

It was just like any other strip mall. Crowded, a sea of people oblivious to the danger walking amongst them. Live Wire searched the faces cautiously. They would be there, the two marks, waiting for what they thought to be a new friend. The irony was remarkable. The last place they should look for an ally was the first place they would. She had seen the Autobot's scout parked out front, but this time carefully kept a distance. Surely he had described his encounter with the disguised cyborg to his human charges by now. Maybe even relayed it to the rest of the Autobots. So they would be aware of her. Confused, but aware. She would count on their awareness of her. 

And avoid the scout this time.

Confusion was her favorite tactic. Barricade loved betrayal, but confusion was just more useful to her. It stunned it's victims into motionlessness. It disorganized an organized attack. It opened doors that would otherwise be locked, allowing her to strike right at the core. Barricade loved betrayal for the thrill of the crushing blow delivered to it's victims, but confusion would never let them see it coming. It was more humane that way. More concealed, secretive. And, in some ways, more devastating.

People bustled about, looking through store windows, carrying shopping bags crammed with their latest acquisitions. The kids she now searched for had planned to meet at a coffee shop on one end of the strip mall that sat conveniently next to an arcade. Entering the establishment, Live Wire was grateful for the lack of electronic security, knowing her half mechanoid body would set off alarms she could not readily explain without blowing cover. The arcade would be another matter, and she hoped this would not be the next stop.

Mikeala stood up from a small group of people and waved to her new friend, "Liv! Over here!" Live Wire winced, the pseudonym was annoying, but she made her way, snaking through the throng of teenagers overrunning the small coffee shop, to the table where her quarry sat. "Would you like a latte? My treat!" Mikeala offered with a welcoming smile. The cautious new comer shook her head softly.

"Caffeine ain't my thing. I'm too much of a health nut," she lied, taking a seat. The conversation droned on around her about classes, cute boys, hot girls, after school activities, and other such gossip. The cyborg listened with feigned interest. Funny how things seem so important in their own perspective only to find later on that they really aren't. _The Decepticons are coming,_ she thought to herself, _they will strike without any warning. Your petty ambitions are fleeting. Your priorities are misplaced. Your lives will crumble. Destruction will reign. There will be no more cheer leading squads or band practice or homework. Survival will be all you aspire to when you suddenly realize it may no longer be an option._ She shook her head mildly, snapping herself out of this revelry. Mikeala was watching her, glancing at her occasionally. Live Wire sighed. _This is boring._ She glanced toward the large store front window, wanting to run out to the parking lot and taunt with the scout again. Just for entertainment.

Eventually the group split up, boys heading for the arcade, girls walking slowly down the sidewalk peering in the windows. Live Wire trailed behind finding Mikeala joining her.

"Are you always this quiet?" The teen looked a bit concerned.

"Uh... Well, I'm not real good with crowds. I'm more a one on one kind of person." She smiled at the irony. There had been a time when she was outgoing and carefree. Crowds had been a special energy for her which she drank in greedily. Now she could feel the difference between herself and the completely organic creatures surrounding her. Everything was different. Secrets now abound and the best way to avoid detection was to avoid that which she once craved most. Attention. She had become an assassin and a spy. She now lived in the shadows, watching the world around her play out, but rarely participating. Oh, the irony.

"Is something wrong? I know I don't know you very well, but you seem rather... sad."

Live Wire smiled gratefully, turning soft brown eyes up to meet Mikeala's gaze, glad of a moment to confide. "I... uh... have a difficult task ahead of me, and I'm not looking forward to it."

"What is it? Maybe I can help."

"Huh. No, you can't help," her smile turned sad and she looked away.

Mikeala watched her new friend patiently, waiting for words that never came. "You know," she said after a long silence, "Sam and I were going to the lake tomorrow. You could come, I'm sure he won't mind. It's not like a date or anything, just something to do on a Saturday afternoon. Maybe it'll take your mind off this 'difficult task.' It's very peaceful there."

Live Wire met her gaze again, studying it for a moment. "Yeah, okay."

"Great. I'll bring some extra burgers and we'll have Sam's car there," Live Wire tensed slightly at this, "so we can play some tunes. It's got a great system! Bring what ever you want to play, I'm sure nobody will mind. We'll be there around noon. We can make a day of it!"

The cyborg smiled at her uncertainly, but Mikeala was struck with a thought, "Why don't we pick you up?"

"No. No, that's okay. I can find my own ride."

Mikeala sighed softly, "You know,"she began gently, "I'm not exactly rich either. It's nothing to be ashamed of. My house isn't anywhere near uptown, but nobody here cares. It's okay."

Live Wire was surprised at the genuine compassion the teenager displayed. "Thanks for the pep talk, Mikeala, but it's not about money, or social status. I don't think you want me around your car. I have this obsession with camaros." Mikeala's face studied her, trying to hide the thought that seemed to register. The hologram shrouded half mech sensed she had been right. The scout had discussed her earlier behavior with the teens. She lowered her voice, "He's a real turn on, that one."

"Sam?" she asked somewhat defensive.

"The scout." Eyes narrowed knowingly.

Mikeala's confusion was evident. The cyborg closed her eyes and breathed it in. That succulent smell of confusion. Able to unravel the best laid plans. Bringing uncertainty to the most confident steps. Beautiful confusion, how she loved it, fed on it! The girl before her had no idea how it could be that this new friend might know a well guarded secret. The possibilities that would lead to this, the teen was unable to process. Glorious confusion.

Live Wire looked up to the sky, her attention caught by the faint sound of twin turbines overhead followed by a soft double boom as heated metal slipped through an unseen barrier. Her mechanoid hearing picked up what went unnoticed by those around her. The sound reminded her of who she was and where she needed to be now. "I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow. I'm looking forward to it." She regarded the teen for a moment, taking pity on her. "Mikeala, things are never what they seem. Remember that. No matter how certain you are, what is apparently before you may not be what you think it is. Don't worry, it will be alright in the end." She turned and walked away.

The teenager stared after the retreating figure, perplexed and a little alarmed, realizing that this was no ordinary high school student walking away from her. Mikeala determined to relay the entire conversation to Bumblebee, maybe he could make better sense of it.

* * *

"You have been successful?" Skyfire was speaking Cybertronian again, as was his wont. Her mouth, still human in it's shape, was unable to articulate the language. She would have to answer in English as she always had. 

"Yes."

"The Autobot scout is aware of your presence?"

She nodded.

"The humans are warned?"

"Not yet. I'll do that tomorrow."

"Tomorrow then." He gazed at her. "Soon, little one. We will be free... _soon_."

"After we tell them what's coming... then what? Where do we go from there?"

"Where would you like to go?"

She sighed. Moments like this were too few and far between. There always seemed to be someone getting in between Live Wire and her half brother Skyfire.

She never could completely understand his connection to the Decepticons despite carrying his memories in her secondary processor. He was a scientist, not a warrior. Though deadly on a battlefield, he preferred to study life, not take it. Few knew this gentle side he hid under a veneer of cold, quiet calculation. Where _could_ they go that no one would disturb them again with the demands of a war neither wanted to fight in? Where indeed?

His massive body shifted under her, the black face looking away. She was perched in her familiar protected place on his shoulder. She often slept there, finding such contact with his body relaxing. His protectiveness a security blanket to ward off nightmares and mischievious Decepticons. His calmness stilled the insanity in her; the on going internal fight between organic and mechanical. He was a rock to rest on, shelter under. And from the time of their accident on, he was her half brother; the mechanoid half of her body shaped with material from his own. He was the only family this little orphan had ever known, and the war was getting in the way.

"Go. Bring Barricade in. He has indulged his lusts long enough." Skyfire's words broke the warm silence. She turned to look at him, gazing at that black face. The one she had come to love dearly.

"Is he hooking up with hot dates from the internet again?"

"I'm afraid so."

She blanched. "Can't it wait till he comes back on his own, Sky?" Skyfire turned a serious face to her, then shook his head gently.

* * *

It was a dark alley in a bad part of town. A place of drug deals and street walkers. Live Wire grimaced at the scene before her. A young blonde woman barely out of her teens--and barely dressed--poised in a "playboy" type stance before a black and white police cruiser, the "mustache man" inside grinning hungrily. _Oh, well. She asked for it. _

Picking up the discarded clothes at her feet, Live Wire stepped from the shadows, silently approaching the woman from the side. The young woman whirled around to face the approaching figure and smiled heatedly. "Get dressed," the cyborg hissed, shoving the balled up clothing toward the woman and dropping them to the ground in front of her.

"If you've come to join me, I'm willing! I like women too," she cast a seductive look back at the disguised mech, "I'm kinky like that!" she purred with a wink.

The cyborg grabbed the woman's wrist, twisting the attached arm around painfully to imobilize and off-balance her. "Kink this," she growled inches from the suprised face. Turning to Barricade, she went on, "You're wanted. Let's go."

"This couldn't wait?! I'm _busy!"_ the teeth of impatience bared in the vehemance of the mech's words.

"Whatever," Live Wire tossed the woman to the ground. "Kill her and let's get going." She shrugged. The scantily clad woman cast an unsure glance first at the cyborg, then at the police cruiser. "Pathetic," she glared down at the now trembling woman on the ground. Crouching beside her, Live Wire grabbed the woman's jaw tightly in her mechanoid right hand, forcing her head up at a painful angle. "Can't you find one with more intelligence? Substance?" she turned her head back to the reluctantly transforming Decepticon, "_Backbone?" _she let go with a hard jerk, straightening up, eyes on the frightened woman. "I mean look at her. What a waste of space. Not even worth it, really. What thrill could you possibly get out of this one?" The crumpled woman began whispering pleas for her life. Live Wire sighed turning again to the seething mech, "This is a new low for you. I think you should let her go, she's obviously damaged goods, and now..." She waved a dismissive hand in the crying woman's direction. As she walked towards Barricade's side she commented, "Whatever, do what you want."

She stopped walking when she felt the large mech rush past her. She didn't turn to watch, she knew this sickening scene all too well. He pounced on his quarry in absolute, deadly silence.

A scream cut the night and gurgled into nothing.

The sound of flesh ripping. Bones cracking. Joints splitting, pulling apart. Blood splattering the walls of the buildings on either side of the alley way. The smell of organic death attacked the stagnant night air. The sound of severed limbs softly thudding on the ground separate from the body that owned them. The trickle of human blood pooling like rain water into a run off ditch.

Silence.

Light footsteps that belied the incredible mass of the vicious mech stalked up behind her. His breathe hot and excited on her back. "Couldn't resist?" she spoke over her shoulder, refusing to turn.

She could feel him crouch behind her. "Couldn't watch?" he leered. It was a lethal tone he used. He wasn't finished killing, the rush still there, and, if she wasn't careful, she would be next.

"I've seen you kill street girls a thousand times, Barricade. Show me something new and I'll watch. Hookers are boring--all the same. Scream, gurgle, rip, dead. Whatever." She waved her hand dimissively again. "Let's go."

His next words caught her, "No stomach for it?"

She whirled to face the blood streaked Decepticon, "This is _futile!_ She wasn't even a challenge, Barricade! Why should I watch you mess up a paint job that I'm gonna have to clean! It's boring. Get it? BORING! Street girls are easy, get something with intelligence and I may even join you, but I'm not wasting my skills on some Ho that wouldn't have lived past her next shoot up anyway!" She was relieved to see him back down slightly, "Show me a challenge and I'll kill!" She took on a ponderous stance, examining the fingers of her mechanoid hand, "Like the mark. There's challenge there; it requires _finesse_. Skill."

He snorted angrily, blood lust abated for now. Transforming, he growled, "Get in. Let's go." Live Wire had to fight hard to hide the gripping guilt at not being able to save this one. Then she mentally kicked herself for letting the young woman's plight affect her to the point of inciting Barricade's killing thrill in her own direction. He knew well killing transformers on Cybertron was different than killing members of the species from which she originated. Murder of another human was something she had observed many times, even done herself, but he still had doubts.

* * *

The two mechs droned on in Cybertronian. Strategies, tactics, _wake me when it's over._

Skyfire smiled slightly at the drowsy form resting on his shoulder. She was still crusted with some of the blood from cleaning Barricade's aromor. _I will, if you want me to, _he thought back to her. Body make up and memories weren't all they shared. Thoughts passed between them as easily as words between friends.

When she passed into a deep sleep he would likely place her on a matt in the back corner of the hangar, as he would be patroling later in the night. _Fine, whatever,_ came the groggy response.

* * *

The black face loomed before her, emotionless, mechanical, robotic. Observing. Calculating. Cold. Red optics glowing in that dark night. Casting red light and blackened shadows down on her. Following her every move, no matter how slight. 

But that enormous black body didn't move at all. Crouched. Poised as if to strike. With speed. With stealth. Silent. Deadly silent.

It watched.

She could feel her breath coming in ragged panic. Fear. It gripped her chest like those optics. At least if it would move she could anticipate what would happen next... but this stillness... It felt lethal. The silence deafening. She couldn't take her eyes off it. Couldn't move in the prison of that gaze. She wanted to ask questions, but they wouldn't even form in her mind. She wanted to _know_... something, but couldn't wrap her shattered thoughts around _what _exaclty.

Words spoken. Was she just to terrified to make them register, or was it a different language altogether? It hadn't come from the face before her. That face hadn't moved.

Move.

The word crept into her mind.

Move.

There was an urgency to it.

Move.

An instinct had sparked to life. Demanding not an answer, but an action.

_Move_.

The hair on the nape of her neck stood up with an electrified feeling. Something was behind her, but she couldn't rip her gaze away from that black face.

_**MOVE!**_

The instict screamed, but as the shadows around her shifted she realized it was already too late!

Long sharp metal structures appeared around her sides. They closed in on her frozen body. That black face kept watching. Observant. Calculating. Red optics focused _intensely_ on her. It never moved. Cold metal clamped down on her trembling form. Tightening. Gripping. Lifting. The red optics followed, face lifting, following her. The ground dropped alarmingly away from her feet. More words. Ilogical, metallic words. Nonsensical syllables. The red optics looked up and behind her. Then back to her.

Like a roller coaster falling off it's tracks. Sideways movement. She was slipping _sideways_ through the air. Fast. Alarming. Swallow hard against the fear. The rush of fear. She saw it as she felt it. Cold hard metal. Her head crashed into it. Bone gave way. Skull fractured, cracks spread across her cranium with a vicious pain. Her vision lit up with brightly colored sparks. Blood streaked across the metal as well as her face and shoulder. Blood stung her eyes. Blackness opened its arms with a welcome numbness. She embraced the dark. It swallowed her vision, erasing the sight of that cold black face. Those red optics. That pain. Consciousness relaxed into the void. Let go. Only the fear could follow. Numbed, she knew it was there, but could not feel it. A dangerous companion renedered mute and bound. Everything fled. All was black.

Like that face...

_**"WAKE UP!"**_

The kick to her ribs didn't even register at first. She didn't even realize she was already on her feet, every nerve, every circuit bristling. Weapons system already armed, locked onto the black and white target before her. She blinked and tried to steady herself. Tried to take in her surroundings.

Barricade regarded her with a harsh scowl. "I won't have to find the Autobot's stronghold with all that screaming you just did! _They'll find us!"_ He let out a deadly, low growl. "Stand down, Live Wire." He shook his head and stormed away, grumbling about useless squishy half breeds and their organic hang ups.

It was just a nightmare. A remeberence of what had happened. Her mind wrestling with the circumstances that led her to be what she was now. Starscream. He had wanted a specimen; she had been chosen. Skyfire was to take her, study her, dissect her. It didn't end up that way, life has a funny way of rearranging the best laid plans.

* * *

The sun felt warm on the yellow exterior. They had just arrived at the lake, Sam and Mikeala were still unloading things from his vehicular interior. The Autobot scout was lost in thought, mulling over this new comer. 

She would be making an appearance at the lake soon, and he would be able to study her more closely. She was intriguing--in a way that alarmed his warrior instincts. Mikeala's recounting of yesterday's conversation with this strange girl hinted at a knowledge no other human should have. She obviously knew he was more than just a car, but the "how" of it was what set him on edge. She could have moved here from Mission City. She may have seen him in the fight there more than a year ago. That was the safe possibility. He hadn't survived this long in this war by believing the safe possibilities.

He had warned Sam and Mikeala against revealing any personal information to this girl. This girl without any record of birth or any attendance at any school other than Sam's. She could have been abducted, that would explain her guarded and strange behavior, her lack of a past. An abductee from Mission City that had seen him transform and knew that _this_ yellow camaro was the same robot from _that_ fight of so long ago--and _somehow_ managed to get into every one of Sam's classes. If he hadn't known better, he would think the Decepticons were behind this somehow, but their utter revulsion towards humans would seem to rule that out.

Maybe.

All these thoughts put the yellow mech on edge.

* * *

From the shade of a tree down the street from the park, observant eyes had watched a yellow sports car pull up to the curb. A teenage couple began unpacking for a day of leisure at the lake. The faint squeak of finger nails on metal would be heard if anyone had been close enough, scratching at a Decepticon emblem deeply embedded on her upper arm. 

The brown hoody of yesterday was stained with blood, as were the jeans, and she had found it necessary to visit a second hand store again this morning. A soft blue baby tee highlighted the brown in her eyes and braided hair, the jeans being nearly identical to the discarded one from yesterday. She would have to trust her holographic projection to conceal the sunlit flash of metal from her arm as she moved. This made her nervous. Thus the scratching.

_Nothing to it but to do it,_ she sighed to herself. From many thousands of feet above her came the faint sound of twin turbines to her better than human hearing. Her half brother was nearby, watching from the sky. This brought a reassured smile to her face.

* * *

The day was warm and pleasant; a playful summer breeze tugging at picnic cloths and ruffling hair. A small figure crossed the street, bouncing past a keenly observant camaro parked by the curb. She paused for just a moment to flash a teasing smile at the disguised mech, before continuing on, calling out to two teens struggling to pin down an errant table cloth. 

"What a day, huh?" The new comer exclaimed.

"I hope you brought your swimsuit," Mikeala returned casting a glance over her shoulder at the glistening water of the lake.

"Uh..." the little cyborg should have expected something like this, but was caught off guard none the less, "I don't do water." She shook her head in alarm.

"That's okay," the young teen chimed back, "I wasn't planning on swimming either. Gotta work on my tan!"

Live Wire was at a loss, "I... I didn't bring a suit, no," she stuttered out looking at the ground.

"Well, you can still keep me company!" Mikeala beamed, not about to let her new friend become uncomfortable.

There was that compassion again. This girl surprised the half mech to no end with her disarming, unconditional friendliness. It brought a touch of sadness to Live Wire, thinking about all that this girl before her would unwittingly be thrust into, all that she must _already_ have been through. Such a gentle soul didn't deserve it. Fate could be cruel. In another life they would have been great friends, despite the ten year age difference.

The table having been set and burgers cooking on the grill, Sam decided to bring his car onto the grass for some music. He parked it well away from the smoke of the grill, and the cyborg knew exactly why, as the smell of cooking flesh reached her olfactory sensors. Live Wire sat uncomfortably at the table, her body fighting itself. The mech half repulsed by the organic smell of burning death, her organic nature salivating hungrily at the delicious smell of grilled hamburgers. _The Autobot must be cringing too_, she thought, remembering all the times Barricade had threatened her life with deadly seriousness for simply eating in front of him. Such fleshy actions were beyond disgusting to the Cybertronians. Even Skyfire had to turn away at the site of it.

She couldn't help feeling sorry for Bumblebee, turning and giving him a sympathetic smile. Sam was digging around the interior of the yellow camaro, seemingly oblivious to the disgust the mech must be feeling. What goes around comes around, and the compassion given to her moments ago begged to be past on. Without thinking, she blurted out, "Maybe... he'd feel better upwind."

"Huh? What's that?" Sam's head popped up from behind the dashboard.

Realizing what she just said, Live Wire turned warily toward Mikeala, who was staring open mouthed at her. "Uh..." she desperately feigned embarrassment,"I had beans last night... I was just... thinking... out loud. Bad habit." She hid her face in her hands attempting to appear ready to crawl in a hole from the humiliation, hoping the teens would buy it, knowing the mech would not. After a second of silence she peered up at Mikeala who obviously didn't know what to think.

The sound of a car door closing made her turn in time to see Sam walking past her. Naively, he stated, "Don't worry about me, I'm a guy. I can handle a little flatulence!" His big grin was meant to be reassuring. A second later music began to play from the camaro's speakers, but the cyborg knew she'd blown it. The chosen song seemed to scream it loud...

"Walk on past me, Never say my name again, I see through you, Your lies will no longer stand..." ("Walk On," Haste The Day)

Glancing at the playful couple out of a whisper's earshot and absorbed in each other, she breathed quietly, "Is that a warning?" As if in answer the volume turned up...

"What's inside shines through..."

"That's not fair, you don't know what's inside," she glared at the mech.

"Believed lies, I see through you, Somehow you see me all too well, and there's no hiding behind lies..."

She sighed heavily. "Give me a chance to explain."

"Walk on past me, Never say my name, I see through you..."

She shook her head. "Shoot first, ask questions later," she whispered, frowning. "I expected more." She turned to face the angry mech, "I'm not a stalker, if that's what you think. Give me a chance. You don't have to trust me, just give me the chance to be what I am. That's all I ask." The song screamed to its ending. "I come as a friend. I know you don't know where it is that I've come from--let's just say it's an unlikely source. My intentions are benign, as are those of the one that sent me."

The silence coming from the scout was alarming. Was he seething, or listening. She found it hard to tell. Sam turned back toward the camaro, "What happened to the music?" he asked, and another song began...

The conversation between Autobot and Decepticon went this way for some time before the two teens headed off toward the lake, leaving Live Wire to talk more freely.

Try as she might she could not get past the hostility projected by the Autobot scout. He was far too guarded, suspicious. Finally giving up on the idea, she decided to just enjoy the music--he did, after all, have good taste! Sitting at the picnic table wiggling in time to the beat was too restrictive, so up she got and began dancing. She had always loved to dance; this one thing had not been changed by her experiences. It was a release, a way to relax and just let go... of everything! After a short time, she realized the yellow mech had begun to play songs catered to her dance style, and she smiled flirtatiously at him.

"Try this..." she announced, knowing, somehow, she had finally gotten through some of those defenses.

"_MOVE!_ And... show me what you can do," she sang as she lightly bumped the yellow camaro with her hip while shimmying a sensual dance next to him, "when you step into the circle and shake like we _do! MOVE! _when you just can't take it, and _MOVE!_ if you just feel like breaking it!" (Move, Thousand Foot Krutch) She paused and straightened looking at the camaro.

The radio crackled to life with, "Your CRAZY beautiful!" (Crazy Beautiful, Chasen)

"Life is a highway, baby!" She cooed back with a wink.

The radio playfully cracked once more, picking up part of the song, "...if you're going my way, I wanna drive it _all night long!" _(Life is a Highway, Tommy Cochran)

Live Wire chuckled, but her figure seem to sag a bit, "Be careful what you wish for, Scout, you might not like what you get," she said sadly, then turned on her heels striding purposefully away from the confused transformer.

She made a bee-line for Mikeala, the latter gazing curiously at the single-minded figure approaching her. "What's up? Where are you going so...?" She trailed off as Live Wire held up a hand to stop her.

"Your life is in danger," she began so seriously that Mikeala was stunned to complete silence. "You and Sam are being hunted. You will only get this one warning. Take it seriously."

"What...? I don't..." Mikeala shook her head, "I'm not sure what you're talking about."

Live Wire folded her arms across her chest, narrowing her eyes at the shocked girl, "Yes you are."

Mikeala began to tremble slightly, "Who is it?" she whispered, not sure she really wanted to hear the answer. "_Who_ is hunting us?"

The answer floored her, sent her world reeling, "I am." With that the cyborg cloaked and was gone.

Suddenly the yellow camaro's radio blared out angrily, "What have you done?! Would you mind if I killed you? Would you mind if I tried to cause you have turned into my worst enemy? You carry hate that I feel... It's over now... What have you done _now_?!" ("What have you done, Within Temptation)

* * *


	3. The Problem With Loneliness

**I do not own Transformers. I hope you enjoy the fic. There's some blood in the middle of this chap, but not as bad as the previous chapters.**

**Sorry for the long delay in posting this chapter, things have come up that prevented it's posting. I have managed, in the interim, to type up the next several chapters, so the next postings will happen more quickly.**

**For anyone who has already read this chapter, I've only corrected some gramatical errors and reposted. **

* * *

The Problem With Loneliness.

A lone tree staked its claim to freedom near the edge of the grass guarding a small cliff, its leaves streaked with crimson and gold lights reflected from stained glass clouds on the horizon. The Earth's sun was setting. A black and white police cruiser rested near the solitary tree, its passenger fidgeting restlessly. A small hand reached for the radio turning it on with a click, but the radio quickly turned itself back off.

The small passenger sighed. "Come _on, _Reno." She tried the door handle, but the door was locked. "Let me out," she said impatiently, "It's cramped in here, an I wanna stretch my legs a bit." The door unlocked and she swung it open. "Now turn the radio on," she cooed, running her fingers along the edge of the door, "I want to dance!" The door pulled from under her light touch and slammed closed. "Oh, come on, Barricade. Live dangerously! You know you like it when I dance!" she teased, but the Decepticon just growled at her.

Giving up, she walked to the front of the black and white Saleen and slid herself onto the hood, patting it lightly when the mech shook with annoyance. She stretched out across the polished black surface leaning back on her elbows, but soon found herself falling off when the Decepticon began transforming, catching her roughly in one hand. Barricade glowered at her as he sat down in the grass, dropping her none to kindly in between his outstretched legs.

Live Wire sighed resignedly, sitting knees to her chest, in the grass between Barricade's firmly planted feet. Gazing out at the city's bloody splashes of color coating the buildings in the setting sun light, she pondered over the mech's sullen mood and how to snap him out of it. But the little cyborg was never one for holding to a single train of thought for long and her mind began to wander.

"Hey, 'Cade... ?"she said softly, turning to peer back at him over her shoulder. "What did you do _before_ the war?"

"What!" His annoyance punctuated the word.

"You know! Before the Great War. This war we're in now? The reason we're here in the first place? What did you do _before _you were a soldier in the Decepticon army?"

"I don't remember," he growled.

Rebuffed, she turned back to face outward toward the city. "Remind me what we're doing, again?" It was more of an irritated statement than a question.

"Observation," was the curt reply. "It is always wise to stake out an area before entering. In this case, the town below."

A brief silence ensued in which she pondered the mech's mood once more. "Did you know," she said breaking the stillness, "that Starscream was a _scientific explorer_before the war? I can't imagine Screamer having enough patience to go from Cybertron to one of its moons, let alone exploring deep space! For that matter, I still can't believe he made it all the way to Earth the hard way without melting down both his primary and secondary CPU's! Good thing for him, we've got the space bridge now." Hearing the chuckle from behind her--despite himself--she twisted around to face him. "Oh! But it gets better! He and Sky were like _best buds!_ Sky says he was even _likeable_, as in having lots of friends! Can you imagine 'bots actually _wanting_ to be around Screams? _On purpose!"_

The Decepticon chuckled again shaking his head.

Smiling at her success, Live Wire pressed the question again, "So, really, 'Cade... What did you do before the war?"

All trace of amusement left his face as he stared out at nothing in particular. "I don't remember. It's really not important anymore."

Sensing she would get no further, she left that subject for another. "Why are we sitting up here again?"

"Observation," the tone in his voice defeated, bracing himself for the accusation he knew would come.

"You mean _procrastination!_The movie's gonna start soon, and we'd better get there before it ends and those two leave!" She grinned up at the now surly mech, "Ya know, it is truly such sweet irony that those kids picked _that_ movie! I can't get over it! Who'd 'a thought they had such great taste in drive-in movies!" Giggling, she stood up, but the black and white cruiser just glared at her, unmoving.

"You would." With a flick at her head--which she deflty dodged--he got to his feet and reluctantly began transforming.

"Come on, Poky! You owe me a date!" more giggling. "Besides, we don't want to miss spying on the mark during the premier airing of 'Super Troopers' at the Tranquility Star Drive Inn Movie Theatre!"

Laughing she reached for the door, but the Saleen pulled away. "For that--you can walk!" He barked out.

"'Cade! Wait! 'CADE! _BARRICADE!" _It was no use, the Decepticon was gone leaving her behind in spiteful dust cloud.

* * *

A small dusty figure stalked along the highway, fists clenching and unclenching, sweat making the left half of her shirt cling. "_Thanks for_ _waiting._"

The black and white Decepticon was parked in vehicle mode by the Tranquility Welcome sign at the edge of town. "Jackass," she hissed, sliding into the passenger seat. The mustached hologram just grinned at her. "Well... Let's get this party started!" she said gesturing to the road.

Slipping sideways from the sheer torque applied to the pavement, the Saleen police cruiser pulled recklessly into traffic, lights blazing, siren wailing.

Live Wire giggled, "You enjoy that _waaaay_ to much!"

"So do you," he chuckled back.

"Are you gonna at least let me get some popcorn?"

"You will not consume anything near me!" was the stern reply.

"Alright, I'll eat it over at the stand. Maybe I can get a better view of the mark that way."

"_No! _I will detach all greasy appendages from your wretched organic body!"

"Spoil sport. Man, you're a suck ass date, Reno."

"This is _not_ a date. This is a mission and you _will_ treat it as such," he hissed back.

"Relax, I'm just havin' a little fun. But you still suck ass." The mech snorted at her in reply. "Bet you were a real winner with the femmes on Cybertron!"

Silence.

"That's what I thought," she snickered.

It wasn't long before the tall open air movie screen came into view, the current selection already in progress. They were greeted at the entrance by a surly employee who grumbled about the disruption that would ensue from letting them in after the movie had started, and Live Wire wondered if the mood was a disease spreading out from her Decepticon ally. Convincing the staff to let them enter had been a patience testing experience, but once inside, Barricade found a dark corner in the back where he could keep a quiet vigil.

"I think I saw them in the front, 'Cade," the cyborg's soft voice breaking the silence. "I'll be suprised if they stick around, though, once they pick up your energy signal. Oh! This is my favorite part! _I love this movie_."

"How you classify this second rate scrap as entertainment boggles the mind."

"Yes, I'm truly the eighth wonder of the world. Are you gettin' any other Autobots, 'cause my scanners only work at close range."

"There is another in the vicinity. The Autobot weapons specialist has taken position 500 meters due west."

"This is America, Reno. They measure everything in feet and yards here!" she teased.

"That is not relevant," he snapped.

She chuckled. "You know, I kinda feel sorry for the Autobot--I mean those two horny teens are _inside _the scout. I can just imagine what he's being subjected too!" She leaned back in the seat, snickering at the implication and the Decepticon's groan.

"Are we just gonna keep tabs from here? 'Cause I don't see the purpose for both of us to be here if this is just long distance surveillance," the cyborg closed her eyes and yawned, stretching. "'Course I could just enjoy the movie while I'm here. Too bad I can't hear it!" She cast a longing look at the speakers still hanging mutely from their posts.

"Make yourself useful, and scout the area," was the all business reply.

"Kickin' me out already, 'Cade? And just when I thought you were starting to enjoy my company!" Reaching for the door, she deliberately sent a playful surge of sensual energy through his system.

Suprised by the unexpected Cybertronian flirtation and initially uncertain if she understood exactly what it meant, Barricade warned, "Don't start something you can't finish!"

"Can't finish?" she quipped, swinging the Saleen's door open and sliding out, "I'm half mech, 'Cade; I can finish it. The question is, 'Can you bring it?'" With a wink, she executed a tummy roll resulting in a sharp tap of her rear that bumped his door closed as she sauntered away between the cars.

Barricade's attention followed the cyborg, his mind running over her use of the nickname 'Cade. Live Wire's nicknames for him were all intentionally derogatory with that one exception. There was little respect in it, but the affectionate implication behind its use allowed him to excuse this oversight. Despite frequent rebellion against his authority, she did belong to him. She was _his_ minion, _his_ responsibility, and that gracious ownership _deserved_ a little adoration on her part. He would certainly not protest her use of this particular name.

But the gentle energy she ran through him a moment ago was another matter. She had been living among the Decepticons long enough to know thier culture, including the manner of flirtation used by his own race--obviously she did since the jolt given him was not the same painful shock she used as a weapon, indicating basic understanding of Cybertronian male-female physical relations. Why she would nonverbally suggest that _any_ sexual activities with her was something he might consider was audacious at best. She was definitely not a transformer femme, her origins being human, and the implication of an interspecies act of this kind made him cringe despite its exotic appeal. But, when was the last time he'd even seen a femme...

* * *

She returned, suspicously carrying something behind her back, to tell him the teens and yellow mech were indeed positioned at the front of the parking area near an exit. Adding proudly that she had also snuck across the street to find the black Autobot parked along the road, she waited for his reply. Distracted by her hidden prize Barricade ignored the information being offered, instead asking, "What are you hiding, Mutant."

"Hiding? Nothing."

"What is in your hand!" he insisted.

"Oh... ah... chili dog... ?" She whimpered taking a step back. "I'm _hungry_ 'Cade!"

"It's bad enough all these flesh bags are creating organic messes in such sickeningly close proximity, but you bring this...this--Touch me and I will painfully remove every digit from your hands and feed them back to you. SLOWLY!"

She rolled her eyes at him, "I'm gonna eat it back there," gesturing to some tables next to the food stand. "Now, about the mark... I was right, poor Autobot, they are _so _gettin' it on in there! And for all the world to see! You'd think he'd atleast tint his windows and give them some privacy. Maybe that's his way of getting even, I don't know." She leaned against an unlit light pole next to the Decepticon, absent-mindedly licking the chilli sauce from her fingers.

Still focused on the chillidog--and, subsequently, the saucey fingers--Barricade smirked, his tone wrapping a velvety sensualism around the veiled threat, "I can take care of that for you."

Live Wire froze, fingers next to her mouth. A silent moment passed as she fully realized the double meaning in his words. When the underlying promise of dismemberment became clear in her mind, she replied lowly, "That's just creepy." Quickly, she turned on her heels and slunk away.

* * *

Barricade and Live Wire hid themselves in an alley across from the restaurant where the two teens had stopped for dinner. The larger Decepticon's impatience was borne of an unusual motive, one the cyborg was deliberately ignoring.

"The fleshbags are taking too long," Barricade grumbled. "Mere consumption of energizing materials should not be this time consuming."

Stepping lightly out of the mech's vehicle mode, she sneered disdainfully, "They're on a date, mutton head. Something you wouldn't know anything about."

His silence spoke volumes, but she wasn't listening. In this silence he watched her lythe form soundlessly pad over to the edge of one building, intent on spying out their quarry. Her body pressed against the wall, absorbing its protection, melting into its rigid structure. She leaned forward just enough to peer around the corner, the off balance position appearing more like a gracefully poised cougar readied for strike... or careful retreat. She watched their quarry, he watched her.

A slow tension crept across her shoulders and down her back. Gradually her knees bent pulling her body back from the corner. Backtracking carefully, each step deliberately placed, she stopped just a short distance from the parked mech, a deadly warrior preparing for ambush. The sudden, tense change in her posture set him on edge even though he himself could not sense the danger she was reacting too. Although he said nothing, the question seemed to hang in the air between them.

Responding to his unspoken curiosity, she whispered, "Street thugs."

Having been on earth for quite some time, he knew this was no real danger to either of them, but at the present moment it could serve to jeapordize their mission by revealing their presence. Her caution was certainly warranted. He remained silent, parked in vehicle mode. Disguise was the best avoidance for now.

Five heartbeats, five sets of strutting footfalls. They were grouped together, moving toward the alley way. Their voices carried the stench of their arrogance to his audio sensors. As they reached the opening before him, Live Wire tensed even more, crouching slightly, reflexively. He realized with alarm she hadn't cloaked! She was visible, despite the deep night shadows. Was she _intending _to lure them in? What would be the purpose in that? But he shrugged this off, suddenly anticipating the blood sport with barely supressed glee.

The first man to step into view stared straight ahead, oblivious to the pedators watching his passing. The second and third were too engaged in catcalls directed across the street, but the fourth turned his head, the fateful mistake made. Tapping the third man's arm, he alerted his companions with a soft, "Check it out." The deep gloss of the Decepticon's highly polished paint had caught his hungry gaze. Recognizing the form of the supercharged Saleen Mustang, he and his companions succumbed enthusiastically to the call of greed.

All five stepped into the alley at first looking past the wary young woman standing firmly before the disguised mech. Eyes shifted to her well muscled form, her fists clenched, jaw tight, warnings in every inch of her posture. One more aggressive individual focused on the girl with malicious intent, wanting to be the first to take her. "Hey baby. Whacha doin' here? Phat lil' thang like you should be on my arm, not hidin' in shadows." She said nothing but lowed her head a notch, glaring up at them through narrowed eyes.

Another walked around her, and she watched without turning her head. Reaching the coveted prize behind her, the man stretched out a hand toward the supercharged Mustang. "That wouldn't be wise," she growled still facing the other four. "The car doesn't like to be touched."

All five laughed. "The car don' like bein' touched!" The aggressive one mocked. "That so?" He grinned at the others. "What's it gonna do? Enlighten me!"

"You should all leave now, while he lets you walk away."

"And who would that be honey? Ah'ont see no un else aroun'. Who dis 'he,' an wut he think he gon' do to _all of_ _us_?"

Bristling she quietly warned, "You should be more worried 'bout what _I'm _gonna do."

This brought out a chorus of Oooo's. Her posture softened a bit, the thrill of impending battle seeping into her soul. The pure evil found in the vengeful spilling of blood thrummed through her body, pumping adrenaline into organic parts, energon rushing into her mech side.

Filling up on the rush, she grinned at the thugs, "I will kill you with mercy. It will be quick, but painful. Once he smells the blood, he won't be able to resist. He loves to kill slowly. The more you scream the better. He eats it up, lives for the thrilling sound of a dying breath. Nothin' he craves more than the look in your eyes as your life ebbs away. You'll wish you'd only had me to deal with. But once he starts, nothing can stop him. Not even me."

"I still don' see nobody else."

"Yeah--who you hidin' back there? Danny Phantom?" Thuggish laughter followed.

The man behind her ran his fingers across the gleaming hood of the mech, who silently raged over this unwelcome touch. Barricade's thoughts focused on the man's brutal death screams that would soon be ringing out into the night, feeding the Decepticon's hunger.

With a quick flash of metal, the four men at the front of the alley whipped out wicked looking blades and blood thirsty grins. A few possessed small side arms, but chose instead the knives for a more satisfying round of close combat. This would be over soon anyway, they figured.

Live Wire responded in kind, three long curved blades springing from their sheaths in her right arm, simultaneously decloaking to reveal the darkened metal of her cyborg body. The men were too pumped up for the fight at hand to give more than just a few disgusted comments at the young woman's sudden change in appearance. They had meant to kill her anyway, this just gave them one more reason.

Two men rushed at her while the other two stood guard at the alley's entrance. Dropping into a crouch as the first man reached her, right leg out straight, she whiped it around in an arc at knee level, sweeping the man's legs out from underneath knocking him onto his back. From this crouched position, she sprang upward at the second man planting her metalic cyborg foot heavily into his chest, cracking ribs and bruising a lung. As he fell she deftly landed beside him glaring at the remaining two before her. A soft gurgling sound reached her audios and she knew without looking that Barricade had transformed and was happily dismembering the bold man who had dared to touch the mech, said man now squirming, speared on the Decepticon's sharp fingers. Soft splatters of blood and quivering red muscle landing around her feet confirmed this.

The two men on their backs began crab crawling away eyes locked in horror at what had become of their companion. Live Wire cloaked, executing an unseen arial somersault over the heads of the two men who stood toward the alley's outlet, and were now edging backward toward that exit.

"The offer to let you leave has expired," she smirked. "Your lives are now forfeit."

Fight or flight instincts on over drive, the men whirled to pounce on the now decloaked girl, knives at the ready. Facing the first of the two, the little cyborg made a slash at his chest with the blades on her mech arm, but he jumped back in time, having anticipated the move. With an unbelievable quickness, she leaped into a jump kick, her left cyborg foot connecting with his soft throat shoving him backwards with a silent crunch from within his neck. Her body followed his to the ground, one heavy foot landing on his chest, the other crushing his neck, her 350 pounds smashing the flesh nearly flat, all but decapitating the now sufficating man. Blood streaked out sideways from between his head and neck, his eyes bugging out of their sockets.

Wasting no time the other man bolted, but not quickly enough. Live Wire sprang from the dead body into a handstand directly behind the runner, wrapping her legs firmly around his neck. "_CATCH!" _she yelled to Barricade who stood with the bloody stump of half of yet another body in his left hand. He pressed the razor sharp digits of his right hand together at the tips as the cyborg flipped her victim through the air to be impaled on those deadly fingers. The man screamed for all he was worth, begging for his life to be spared, but the black and white mech just laughed. Slowly spreading his fingers apart, the man's screeching began to dissipate weakly as Barricade's top most digit cut through lungs and spine, out through one shoulder causing the head to loll forward, and then fall to the ground, followed by an arm and opposite leg, the body still stuck to one large crimson streaked finger. With a small shake of the Decepticon's hand, it dropped away, landing on top of it's formerly attached appendages.

Stalking up behind the one remaining thug still trying to crawl unnoticed, Live Wire extended three long flat prongs from the back of her mechanoid hand. The Wolverine-like blades' intended use being that of computer interface, they doubled as sharpened knives in a fight. Drawing her arm back, she used the momentum of her body to shove the blades into the mans back and out of his chest, slicing through his heart and one lung. Ragged breathes drew in and before death consumed him. Bracing a foot against the body's shoulder, she pulled her blades free, shaking the blood off before resheathing all six.

Looking up at Barricade, she felt herself grow uneasy at the hungry way he was watching her.

"What do _you_ want?" she spat.

"Hmmph," he grunted back, shifting his weight from one foot to the other while admiring the dark red smears decorating the little half mech's body. She took a few steps toward him expecting him to transform, but he just stared lustfully down at her.

The scratchy sound of a woman's distant voice caught her attention. Looking back at the man she'd just killed, she spied a cell phone, broadcasting their current location to a 911 operator. Letting out a string of curses, she picked up the phone crushing and electrically frying it in a flash of hateful sparks.

Turning back to the taller Decepticon, Live Wire's voice was hurried, "We gotta split." He nodded, swiftly assuming his vehicle mode as the sound of sirens began to fill the air around them.

The ride back to their hangar was a silent one: she pondered his unusually lustful mood, he pondered what to do about it.

* * *


	4. Shadows of Reality

**I do not own Transformers. This chap is not very bloody at all, but there is a good arial dog fight scene. ;)**

**Thundercracker is making a guest appearance from the fic (a personal fave of mine!) "Ronin," with permission from kaydeeblu. She also wrote all his lines! I'm just not as good at capturing the smarmy TC as she is! THANK YOU SO MUCH KAYDEEBLU!! She also beta read this whole fic, and I have been to much of a distracted jerk to type that in here! So I am now correcting that mistake! Sorry about that! :( **

* * *

Shadow of Reality

Tall and deeply black, the Decepticon fighter jet stood in robot form suspiciously eying the hangar door where only a moment ago Barricade had silently stormed out. The pair, cyborg and Mustang, had only just arrived, speaking not a word to each other--an oddity in itself. Skyfire couldn't help but wonder at the unusual way the black and white mech had followed his ward into the hangar. The uncommon way he had been watching her every movement. There was a hunger in him not borne of his usual blood lust, but fueled by it none-the-less.

Without turning his head, the jet asked, "What happened?"

Live Wire shrugged, "Oh, I think he just needs the Cybertronian version of a cold shower. Got a little too worked up, ya know? And now he's in want of a femme," she winked at the Decepticon Commander.

He gazed at the littlest member of his small team. "And he wanted to substitute you?"

She shrugged again. "Whatever."

This angered the black jet greatly. His optics narrowed as he stepped toward the exit Barricade had escaped through only moments ago.

"Wait, Sky!" The plea in her voice stopped him. "Let him go," she said softly, "He hasn't done anything, he wouldn't. Besides... it's just you and me now. We haven't had a chance to just hang out for a while."

The tall mech glared after Barricade for a bit more, before a slow sly smile crept across his face. With a swift movement, he scooped up the little creature whose half body was made up of his own body's metals. Charging out of the hangar and onto the tarmac, he began to transform into his SU-47 Firkin jet form, tossing the squealing girl into the air ahead of him and catching her roughly in his small cockpit mid-transformation. A leap aided by the sudden push of his after burners propelled them through the atmosphere, nose pulling ever more sharply upward into a rapid vertical climb. The deafening roar of his twin turbofan engines shuddered through every fiber of her being. G-forces pressed in on the little half mech and she grunted with the strain of keeping blood from pooling in her abdomen, but he only laughed at her.

Teeth chattering with the quake of his powerful engines, she growled, "Uh... li'l... warn... w-wood... b-b-be... niiiiiice!" His laughter echoed even harder through the smallish cockpit. She found herself grateful for being only five feet tall, as she was squeezed back into the seat of the cramped interior.

Vents whooshed open with a rush of processed air, stabilizing the cabin pressure. The thundering vibration of his engines leveled out as they reached cruising altitude, breaking through a low cloud and carrying the vapors with them while he gently pushed into the sound barrier. Her hands quickly went for her ears when she saw the small vapor cloud around his nose grow, plugging them just as the double boom rattled every atom for miles around and sent the fuzzy water trail streaking over wings, sliding off twin tails. His agile form had slipped through the unseen barrier and glided forward in the relative quiet that followed.

Reaching forward, she smacked the side of the forward instrument cluster panel. "Next time _say something!_ Don't just grab and go!"

Skyfire chuckled at her abuse, "You would have argued."

She snickered at how well the jet knew her, "Damn right I would have argued! I hate heights!"

"Heights? This is not high--look!" He rolled into an inverted position, causing the girl to fall against the canopy with a shriek. "We can go _high,_ if you like, in order for you to discern the contrast."

Pushing up against the hardened plastic, she let out something between a shriek and a whimper, and closed her eyes tightly. "This is way I hate heights!" He laughed again. "Oh! You think this is funny!" She smacked at the instrument panel again, but missed, too afraid to move about enough to reach it. "Please, Sky! Turn over! Turn over!"

"Put the belt on," came the mild command as he gently rolled up right. The girl plunked down awkwardly onto the seat, feet over the control panels, and struggled back into the correct seating position, simultaneously reaching for the belts to secure herself into place. Since his only passenger these days did not readily wear a G-suit for the off chance he might kidnap her in his cockpit, Skyfire had modified his belt harness to fit the little cyborg, keeping her snug against the seat during his wild aerial maneuvers. It was never necessary for her to reach any of the controls, although she would often play with different devices to monitor whatever situation was at hand.

"It's a good thing for you, I can't toss my cookies!" she grumbled at him.

"Hmph. I wouldn't be the one cleaning the mess!" he shot back, remembering his days in hiding with the Russian air force. Those days had been glorious, man and machine working in tandem to perform a given task. The thrill of reaching for the skies, stretching his proverbial wings and taking his pilot for a _ride!_ They never got air sick.

Feeling her deft fingers skimming over various buttons he turned his attention back to her movements. Activating his redesigned holographic radar systems and threat warning systems, she began passive scans of the airspace they occupied. Watching the blips lazily scoot across the the field, she sighed delightedly, readying herself for the next adventure. "Where too now, Sky?"

The jet ponderously rumbled a deep, "Hmmm... "

"Anywhere in particular?"

"What is that phrase you use... ? Ah, yes... A star to the right and continue until sunrise."

Snickering, "You're a dork. 'Second star to the right, and straight on till morning!' I really gotta get you that movie. One of these days... "

"Speaking of stars... "

She looked up and behind them as three dark shapes graced the night sky pulling along side them. "Or the devil... "

"One and the same."

A scratchy voice hailed over the comm from a tan F-22 pulling into the lead, "You would speak so ill of your oldest friend, Skyfire?"

"Bitchin' night to you too, Screams," Live Wire teased.

"I was _not_ addressing you flesh bag."

"Hey! That's _mutant_ flesh bag to you, Lord Starsceam!" She laughed back.

"Whatever."

"It would appear you've brought your infestation, Sky," rumbled the deep and jovial voice of a second, black F-22, aligning himself just off Skyfire's left wing, the smaller more agile Thundercracker in gray F-16 form quietly brooding off the lead's right.

"I thought this party was invitation only," she snapped back.

"I believe they want to crash," Skyfire spoke up, eliciting peals of laughter from all four companions.

"We can oblige that!" Live Wire giggled flipping on the targeting systems. Zeroing in on Starscream's tan tails, the on-board computer cheerily announced _Searching for target. _She called out, "Let's play a little game we humans like to call... " _Target acquired, lock confirmed._ "Tag! You're it!"

Unable to form coherent sentences, Starscream simply screamed his rage at being targeted--_and_ not realizing the game until it was too late--as Skyfire nose dived out of the formation vectoring right and using his superb agility to break away. Clarity returning the lead barked out, "Get them! You'll _pay _for that, mutant!"

"Ha! _Haa!"_ she laughed working the targeting systems and monitoring the warnings. "Come on, bro! We've made the Star scream, let's Warp the Sky and Crack the Thundah!"

"It won't be that easy runt!" Skywarp boomed, a purple light shimmering over his wings and engulfing his fuselage and teleporting him away just as the Skyfire's targeting computer tried to lock on. Missing the intended target, it jumped to one close by, Thundercracker. He dipped and dodged, Skyfire matching his every move with ease, but not well enough for a target lock. _Acquiring target... Acquiring target..._ A moment of turbulence bounced Thundercracker back into the computer's range. _Target acquired._

"Say your prayers, Hook!" Live Wire yelled. At the last moment, the gray Falcon released chaff and then rolled left, once more out of range.

"Next time, try pandering your fleshy salvation off on a mech who actually _needs_ it!" He snickered back.

A flash of purple reflected off Skyfire's canopy, alerting the duo to Skywarp's sudden presence behind them. "You're mine _now!"_ he bellowed.

The insistent beeping of the threat warning radar told of Starscream's approach on the vertical plane, while Thundercracker veered around to align himself for his own attack. "Chaff! Chaff! Chaff!" Live Wire screamed.

"I _am_. Hold on to something!" Skyfire warned. Rolling left, he halted inverted and pulled upwards looping backward over Skywarp, just missing Starscream's dangerous run at his right wing. Pulling around behind Skywarp, the black Firkin again tried to target the equally black Raptor, now ahead of him, but Skywarp was too quick. Speed brakes flew open and the Raptor slipped backwards, thrusters kicking in with a flare of blue light as he passed, landing him back into a firing position. Thundercracker came in from above and to the left, Starscream trailing just behind him, and they both made a run for the black Firkin, targeting computers screaming for a lock.

Skyfire dipped into a left roll to avoid being locked onto. Veering right and further down he dodged the pair coming in from above, and executed another loop, this time using his agility to the fullest and pulling up under Thundercracker before he could maneuver out of the way. _Target aquired._ _Lock confirmed._

_"Booyah!"_ Live Wire yelled and then let loose a loud rooster crow, which Skyfire echoed laughing giddily.

Another purple flash told of Skywarp teleporting in behind them again. "In the back, Hook?" Live Wire snapped at him.

"Cheeters never prosper, Skywarp!" Skyfire joined.

"No," he snickered back, "but they always win!" Just then Skyfire's threat warning radar screamed of a target acquisition. Skyfire dropped a myriad of chaff, and pulled up, but Skywarp was hot on his tail.

"Cloak your stupid butt!" Live Wire smacked at the console again, eliciting a growl from the Decepticon jet. What little light was present in the night sky swirled briefly around the Firkin before it's shape was lost to the darkness. Losing the target lock, Skywarp grumbled his frustration in Cybertronian curses.

Skyfire easily maneuvered into position and targeted the black Raptor at this point. _Target acquired, lock confirmed._ "Done!" Live Wire called over the radio. "You know the drill Warp!"

"Not a chance."

"Come on Warp, we do it on the _rare_ occasion you win!"

"No way."

"Warp! You spoil sport! Play fair for once!"

"Decepticons do not 'play fair.' " Starsceam cut in. "But please, Warp. _Do _entertain us."

"Come on Warp! You know the words!" Live Wire teased.

"Oh for the love of fraggin' Primus, Warp! My audio sensors can only handle so much squishy babble and now is _not_ one of the more tolerant times, so just say the slaggin' words!" Thundercracker spat.

"I'm a cod fish," Skywarp mumbled, barely audible.

"So we can hear you!" Chorused through the comm from all.

"I'm a cod fish!" he growled grudgingly.

Live Wire crowed loudly again and broke into laughter. Skyfire rocked his wings up and down, in the fighter jet communities well known victory dance, teasing, "Warp is a cod fish!"

"Can't you gag that thing," Skywarp groused.

Skyfire chuckled, "_No._" And then into the the cockpit only, "Behave yourself."

"Hmph."

The four jets formed up again, Starscream in the lead, the other three trailing off behind him.

"What brings the seekers out, this night?" Skyfire queried of his leader. "Patrol or practice?" _Definitely need the practice,_ he whispered into Live Wire's mind. She stifled a giggle.

"Reconnaissance," came the stiff reply.

_Must always be contrary, _Skyfire commented in thought. She nodded with a smile.

"What are you hunting tonight, Starscream?"

"Are you pining to joining us, Skyfire? I imagine that menial task of overseeing the execution of several humans _has_ been grating on your neural circuits."

_Not as much as watching you butcher your command and divide the Decepticon army into factions. _"I have missed the sky, and missions involving actual flight. Administration does not agree with me."

"Until your mission is complete, I'm afraid I cannot pull you from your current duties to join us." The Decepticon's High Leader taunted. "These assassinations are simply too important in the grand scheme of things."

_He's never been one to worry about the _"grand scheme"_ of things. _

_That's for sure,_ Live Wire sent back.

"Tell me," Starscream went on, "why are you wandering about up here instead of tracking your mark?"

"We all needed a breather, Starscream. Barricade and Live Wire have worked nonstop on this assignment overcoming every difficulty. The first deaths are close at hand, but my troops needed to recuperate. Nothing more."

"I believe you've recuperated plenty, and now you should return to your duties," came the biting command.

_He is bitter over his immediate defeat. But I was always able to best him._ "Yes, Lord Starscream. We will return at once," Skyfire's tone carried a modicum of resentfulness, that only Live Wire and Starscream noticed. The latter made note of it, satisfied with the sting, the former agreed with it, fully understanding the reason behind it, neither commented. The black Firkin glumly broke formation and set his heading for their hangar, back at the Tranquility airstrip.

"Figures," Live Wire huffed, "We beat their asses, and Screams sends us home!"

"Gracefully accepting defeat was never his strong point."

"_Grace_ was never his strong point!" She snickered.

"That is not true," Skyfire argued, "He is the most graceful aerial warrior I have ever known. It is one of the many traits that propelled him to leadership."

"Too bad he doesn't know what to do with it. Or maybe that's a good thing." The little figure peered down the side of the jet at the city lights far below, thousands of humans going about their lives oblivious to the dangers in the sky this night.

"Little one, the Autobots' leader will know what to do with the information we will bring to him. And once the space bridges are both destroyed we will find a peaceful life elsewhere."

"We're staying that long?"

"I believe it is called 'follow through.' "

A depressed sigh sounded in the cockpit.

"What troubles you tonight, little sister?"

"Nothing. Everything. I don't know."

Choosing this moment to broach the subject worrying him the most he queried, "What exactly went on between you and Barricade this evening?"

"Oh, that. I don't know. He just... I think he's longing for a little femme action, and I'm the closest thing around. He don't mean anything by it, he wouldn't stoop that low to try anything with a human, ya know."

"And have you been encouraging him?"

"What!?" She was trying to sound accusing, not wanting to admit the truth, but Skyfire's gentle nudge in her mind reminded her that although he often left her to her own devices, keeping their thoughts separate from each other, he was well aware of her emotions. He knew she was lying. She blew out a hard breath and admitted, "I'm... lonely Sky. I mean, I'm never gonna have _someone_. You know? I'm never gonna be accepted by your race, and mine will reject me the moment they find out about me. Or try to capture me like some kind of science experiment gone wrong! I mean _look at me!_ My own body can't even decide what it is! I feel like I'm trapped in between realities. I feel like a shadow. Something that isn't really real. Humans are social creatures, and I'm still human, in here." She tapped the side of her head. "But the only sentient creature I can socialize with is you. And I love ya dearly bro, but that's just not enough!"

"The peace you seek will not be found in running away. And it certainly will not be found in Barricade. _That_ should be the last place you look. He will never care for you the way you want him to. He's just not capable of it." Dropping his altitude below the cloud cover, he engaged his cloak so as to not be seen on approach to the Tranquility air strip. Not that anyone was actually in the abandoned aircraft control tower. Air traffic was usually all handled by a remote sight halfway between the little town and the next major city.

"Then where is it, Sky? Where is this elusive peace? And is there even such a thing for me?"

"Peace is something you carry inside, borne of your own self-security. It is not something you can find in the exteriors. Those things are passing. You, little one, must come to terms with what you are. You must stop fighting it and learn to accept that you are now half of both races. An anomaly with so much to give, and so much more to look forward to. You are sentient and valuable. When you come to realize this, you will begin to find peace."

"Hmm." The little cyborg sat quietly for a moment chewing on these words, while the air buffeted Skyfire's slick form as he drew close to the runway. "Sky," her small voice sounded so child-like and quiet, "How did you get to be so wise?"

"I have lived a very long life, fighting in a war I never wanted to fight in, on the side I never meant to join."

She smiled sadly, "Yeah, me too. I guess that's why we need each other so much."

"Maybe fate put us together for reasons more to do with our own needs. Perhaps we will have a greater effect on the outcome of this war together rather than alone."

"Maybe."

"When this is all over, I promise I will take you to the stars. I was an explorer before the war, and I hope to return to that one day. Would you like that? We would meet new species on uncharted planets and discover so many things unknown to either of our species."

"Yeah. That sounds good. But only if you promise to take me to see the--"

"Orion Nebula, yes, I will. I promise." The amusement clear in his voice as his wheels touched the concrete of the runway with loud bark. "Then we will set out on new adventures--_far_ away from this ridiculous war."

* * *

"Live Wire." She heard her name, it was gruffly said and jerked her from a deep sleep.

Squinting up at Barricade through the dark, she hissed a sigh. "What do you want?"

"You."

"What!? No way! No midnight training sessions for me. Get your jollies off some other way!"

"If I have to work it off, you'll be right there with me."

"Eat shit and blow it out your exhaust."

"Why do you torture me so?" he growled, fully enjoying the verbal battle.

"You like it and you know it. Lay down and recharge mutton head."

Grinning at her, he slowly lowered himself next to her little mattress. In the darkness, soft red light from his glowing optics glinted off his jagged face, making his grin look more like a malicious sneer.

"That's freaky," she whispered, "That's kinda... stalkerish."

He snickered lightly, flicking drops of a dark liquid off his fingers in her direction.

"Yuck!" She rolled over, facing away from him. "Where did you go?"

"Hunting."

"Human or animal?"

"Humans are animals."

"_Nice_," her frown evident in her quiet voice. A soft metal against concrete sound told of him shifting restlessly on the hangar floor next to her. "How many?"

"Do you _really_ want to discuss this?" The sudden gust of warm air on the back of her neck made her jump. "It was nearly as thrilling as watching you kill."

Getting the point, she weakly mumbled out, "No," jumping again when he snorted softly against the back of her neck. He was leaning very close to her, close enough to nip at the nape of her neck. But he didn't. He never touched her. He didn't move away either. She could feel his optics running over her still form, her own shadow shifting in the red glow confirmed this. It was a strange electric sensation, both enticing and repulsive. Being wanted was pleasing although his black spark gave her chills she couldn't shake. He would not change what he was for her; he would never fit into her plans of escape. What's more, she knew she would never be completely safe with him.

Safe. That was the one thing she longed for most.

In her peripheral vision, his long sharp fingers appeared hoovering just above her side, then slipping away again. A heavy sound echoed through the hangar after he rolled onto his back.

She lay silently, waiting for the red glow behind her to fade. After a long while, it did; the mech finally able to shut his systems down and enter a light recharge state. Is this what she was reduced to? Her only options being a shared solitude with Skyfire or a twisted affection with a thrill seeking killer? How did she get here? Why her, of all the soldiers and airmen on that chopper, why did she have to be the one chosen? Why did it matter anyway? When this was all over, maybe Sky would take her to some alien planet where they had never seen or heard of humans and she could pretend she was normal.

Right. That would never work. Never, never, too many negatives... everywhere she looked the answer was always a resounding "no."

The lyrics of a favorite song echoed her pain as they rang through her memory_. Wanting, watching, debating, on which way to run to_... ("Favorite Disease," Thousand Foot Krutch) A single tear slipped from her left eye, making a silent commute to the mattress. _Haunted, voices, craving, someone to run to... _She fidgeted and then rolled over to face the black and white Decepticon, startled to find his clawed fingers resting on the mattress beside her. Studying the sharpened metal, she found herself softly humming the tune from her head. _I haven't lost myself in a long time, I never tried to care when I wanted to... _Reaching with her mechanoid hand she gingerly caressed the blunt side of one large metal finger, softly singing the next line, "I just want to be part of something..." The larger mech's hand swiftly twisted around, lightly grasping her own and making her jump as she finished the pre-chorus, "I just want to be real like you... " Her voice trailed off, her eyes widening with the realization that he had not been recharging after all.

Red optics glowed a dark hue when the optic covers raised to a slitted position. "You're real to me, Live Wire."

"I don't feel real, 'Cade. I feel like a shadow," she gasped.

"You're real to me." He ran a razor edged finger tip lightly through her curly locks, bringing it down to her fleshy cheek and pausing there. Giving her cheek a tap that felt like a pin prick, he laid his hand down snugly beside her, closer than it had been before. "That song is one of your favorites. Does it speak to you?" She nodded. "Tomorrow will be a long day if you don't recharge tonight. Rest now." His face twisted mischievously, "_You drive me mad_," he whispered as his optics closed again.

She wrapped her mech hand around the closest finger cradling the blunt side up against her chest and closed her own eyes, finding a small comfort in the mech's words of assurance that allowed her to drift off to sleep.

* * *

****

**Lyrics from the song "Favorite Disease," by Thousand Foot Krutch, used as poetry to emphasize the mood.**

**This is a quote from my sister-in-law, who, funnily enough, is not quite old enough to read this fic! But she had some great zingers none-the-less, and they will be featured in future chapters.**


	5. I spy

**Once again, there's no blood in this chapter. But there is a good deal of violence at the end. Plenty of explaination: you will find out alot about Live Wire's background, including her _real_ name. I thought it would be fun to tell this part of the story from a different perspective. Let me know what you think! **

* * *

I spy.

This was really much easier than he thought it would be. The hardest part had been dodging Bumblbee today. After that girl had declared herself an assassin, intent on killing Mikeala and himself, his guardian, Bumblebee--along with the rest of the Autobots--had become stiflingly overprotective. He thought of Bee one of his best friends, going everywhere together, but the constant surveillance had become rather oppressive! So Sam hadn't needed to _fake_ the argument that had him running off on his own and escaping the yellow scout's obsessive guard. It was really a matter of due course.

Sam had thought that the hardest part would be finding the girl, but this turned out to be nearly as easy as ditching the mech. Stopping in at the fast food place near the town's airstrip, he had been alarmed to find a familiar black and white police cruiser pulling into the parking lot soon afterwards. Thinking the Decepticon must be seeking him, he had ducked into the run down burger joint and hid behind a booth, peering cautiously through the greasy glass panes. But, to his surprise, the mech had only stopped long enough for a girl--_the very one he was in search of_--to exit the passenger side. She had slammed the door particularly hard yelling something fierce but unintelligible as the Decepticon spun his wheels and ripped through the parking lot, pedestrians leaping to safety trying to escape his apparent death charge. What was she doing with Barricade?

This mystery was getting more complex with each uncovered clue. She had ordered a rather large meal for someone so petite, something to rival his own teenage appetite, and paid with cash that appeared to have dark stains on it. Was that dried blood? For a while, Sam was afraid the Decepticon would come back for her, but she casually picked a quiet table in an obscure corner and proceeded to devour the entire meal before her. Wow! That girl could eat! When she had finished, she immediatetly left the building, but out on the street she seemed to wander aimlessly, stopping at a convienence store and walking slowly through a park. He had followed her at a great distance, not wanting to be seen.

The real strange turn to her wanderings was when she headed out toward the airstrip. She had walked right out onto the tarmac as though she owned the place, and this was where he found himself now, watching her admire a large, but out of place, black single seat jet. The jet was obviously foreign in design, resembling a large fighter, and looked to be very immaculately kept, the black paint absorbing light in a manner that surpassed modern stealth technology. It must have belong to some rich guy making a stop over on his way to where ever.

Sam was leaning flat against the outside wall of a tall hangar peeking around the corner carefully. The girl appeared to be talking softly to the black jet and he began to wonder if perhaps this was another Decepticon. He had first spotted her, after all, in the company of Barricade, so why not? It certainly made sense. And there was no way that Barricade could be the "benign" and "unlikely" source she had claimed sent her to warn the teens of impending danger. For that matter, why would she warn them in the first place? Bee had thought it was all just a game, to frighten and confuse everyone in the hopes that they would make stupid mistakes. If that was the case, then Sam may well be making a stupid mistake by being here now. Barricade was sure to show up again, eventually.

Lost in all these musings, he hadn't noticed exactly when the girl had left the black plane. Looking around hurriedly, he realized she was no where in sight. This was sorely disappointing, but he wasn't ready to give up his quest for answers just yet. She had to have left for home at some point while he was distracted, if he just went out to the road, he was sure to find her walking back toward the town.

Turning around to do just that, he nearly fell over from the surprise he received. There she was right in front of him, scowling.

"You're pretty brave to come here, I'll give you that. But you lack common sense, Sam." Her hands rested on her hips like a scolding mother,shaking her head at him. "If Barricade finds you he will kill you outright, and there's nothing I can do about it. Foolish, Sam, really foolish. Do you have a death wish or something?"

"Death wish... ? No. But I do have a lot of questions for you." He had to jump at the opportunity, he may never get another chance. He had to know.

"So now you're an investigative reporter," she grinned wryly at him.

"No, I just don't understand..."

"What's to understand. I'm here to kill you. I'm a Decepticon assassin. It's pretty simple, really."

"Then why did you warn us about what you're doing? And by the way, why haven't you tried to kill us _yet_? It's not like you didn't have the chance."

"True dat. True dat," she turned away from him and began to walk towards a door in the side of the hangar he had been using as cover. "There's someone who would like to meet you."

Sam cringed at this, but when she turned back to him expectantly, he realized he didn't have the luxury of declining the invitation. "It's not Barricade is it?" he breathed.

She chuckled, "No, Reno's out on patrol."

"Who?"

"Reno. Reno 911?" She studied Sam for a moment. "You know, the parody cop show."

"Oh."

"Next time you run into him, tell him he's a _'Super Trooper_.' That's one of his favorites!" She peered up at Sam slyly, giggling. Opening the door, she gestured for him to walk through ahead of her, but still he hesitated. "If I wanted to kill you now, Sam, you'd already be dead. Go on. He's waiting."

Sam started to walk through the doorway, but turned suddenly. "Who? Who's waiting? What am I walking into?" he began, but with an inhuman strength, she pushed him into the open space of the hangar, knocking him to the floor, and frowned impatiently at him.

He twisted on the ground when she gestured behind him; there sat the same jet that had been on the tarmac only a moment ago. It had to be a Decepticon, no jet could move on its own and without a sound like that! His jaw dropped as the black mech before him slowly transformed into a robot that stood nearly head and shoulders taller than Optimus Prime.

"This... is Skyfire." Red optics gazed down on him without emotion, the ominous form standing completely motionless, like an enourmous statue. Sam could barely make out the purple Decepticon emblems against the deep black of the great upswept wings extending out from the mech's lower back. His body wasn't skinny, like Starscream, or bulky like Megatron, but rested somewhere in between. The tall robot had an air of perpetual curiousity and observation about him, hardly seeming to fit the profile of a vicious Decepticon. There was a calm easiness about him that was almost disarming, but also a hardened stealthiness that spoke of the deadly, battle-hardened warrior underneath.

"This is the mark, Sky." She said this so casually, that at first Sam didn't catch it.

"The mark? Is... is he gonna... kill... me?" Sam found his voice to be rather hoarse all of the sudden.

"Sky?" she scoffed at the idea. "No, Sam. Tonight, no one will kill you. Tomorrow... who can say?" She winked at him playfully, but he didn't find this funny at all.

The black Decepticon turned his gaze to the girl and his large red optics seemed to soften a bit. Strange words in an alien language came from the enormous mech and the girl shrugged back at him, then walked away.

"Wait," Sam called, causing her to pause and peer over her shoulder at him. "Where are you going? What did he say?"

"What he said, he didn't want you to know," she stated flatly, "and I'm just going over to there to sit down. You can join me if you like, but frankly, standing there like that... you may make him," she gestured to the black jet, "nervous." The red optics narrowed at her in mild annoyance, and she grinned back up at him, but Sam didn't catch the joke.

Sam followed her across the hangar, giving the giant robot a large berth. "Why didn't he want me to hear what he had to say? What was it about?"

She chuckled, "Persistant aren't you. He has his reasons. If he wants you to know, he'll speak in english."

"Wait--so you can understand him? You understand their language?"

Plopping down on a full sized mattress that rested on the hangar floor, she shrugged, "Yeah, can't you?"

"Uh... no. I've never been able to figure any of it out. Bee tried to teach me some of the words, but it all sounds the same to me."

She laughed. "That was retorhical, Sam! Of course you can't understand it! The language consists of tones that human ears simply cannot hear! _Bee_ should know better!"

"Well, how is it that you can understand then?"

The girl's face took on a very solomn expression. She looked up at the looming Decepticon who nodded slowly back to her. "I'm gonna show you something, Sam, but you need to sit down first. Because I don't want you to fall over and hurt yourself when you see it."

This was getting really strange now, but he was already in the thick of it, so he sat down on the mattress, careful to keep a good distance between himself and this bizarre girl. That's when strange was redefined for Samuel James Witwicky. As he looked at the girl sitting before him, the light around her seemed to shift in a dizzying, swirly kind of way. Some of her features melted away and what sat in place of the girl was a mesh of human flesh and transformer metal. While the left half of her face remained exactly the same, including her soft brown eye and olive skin, the right half of her face was a metal mimic of human features, her right eye replaced with a glowing red optic matching that of the towering Decepticon keeping them company. The gleaming metal ran across her cheek from nose to somewhere up under her hairline, claiming her right ear as well. It spilled down the right side of her neck, crawling under her shirt and emerging from the sleeve of her light blue baby tee in the shape of a very mechanoid right arm, all the way down to the fingertips. A raised purple Decepticon insignia crested the top of her mech arm just below the shoulder, which she began lightly scratching at. He guessed there was more under her clothes, but the shock of what he could already see was enough.

The tall black jet broke the silence, "**Stop!**" The booming word was so sharply spoken, that Sam stopped everything he was doing in response--even stopped breathing--until he realized the order had been meant for the cyborg girl and not him. She gazed nervously up at the stern mech.

"Sorry, can't help it."

Sam could hear the Decepticon shifting his weight impatiently, and he felt a new wave of fear creep over him as he also stared up at the imposing figure.

The mech spoke a short sentence in stern Cybertronian, and the girl cyborg grimaced and turned her attention back to Sam, folding her hands in her lap.

"What did he say?" Sam almost whispered.

"Oh, he just said I need to break this habit," she said quietly gesturing to the purple emblem she had been scratching at. "You said you had questions Sam, I think I can answer some of them before you ask. I am a cyborg, a mixture of Cybertronian technology and a human body. His Cybertronian technology." Sam's mouth fell agape as he stared first at her then at the Decepticon. "When Starscream's forces first arrived on earth, there were a few others already here. One, I'm sure you know, was Lord Megatron. The other Decepticon was Commander Skyfire. His primary fucntion is that of scientist and explorer. When Cybertron began falling apart after the departure of the All Spark, Sky was intent on finding a new planet for the Decepticons to inhabit. His proto-form being one well suited to space travel, he actually managed to beat Starscream's forces to Earth. Upon nearing this solar system, he had felt the faint pull of the All Spark and followed it to here. Finding the planet already inhabited, he took the form of a military fighter jet, as per Megatron's instructions prior to leaving Cybertron.

"Sky didn't know, at first, that any other transformers were here, so he resorted to his favorite occupation and simply studied the inabitants passively. Not long afterward he came across information about Megatron being held prisoner somewhere. He also found your guardian, but carefully avoided detection. A few more Earth years went by before he picked up Starscream's communications, alerting him to their impending arrival. He joined up with them just after their planetfall, explaining that he had been studying the inhabitants, and his knowlege may be helpful to thier quest for Megatron and the All Spark. Starscream insisted that the planet be wiped clean of all organics, and Sky requested a specimen for close study to determine the best means of ensuring the planet's complete cleansing. Screamer and his 'cons wanted to do it the hard way, until it was pointed out that personally finding and exterminating each and every one of the billions of humans would be nearly impossible, wasting an enormous amount of time.

"That's where I came in. My human name was Natalia Jumper. I was a Staff Sergeant in the U. S. Air Force stationed in Afghanistan. We had a report of an F-22 Raptor going down late one evening, and since I was one of the best aircraft mechanics on the base, I was requested for the recovery team. We set out under cover of darkness to locate the crash bird, due to too many hostiles still in the area. Our MH-53 Pave Low helicopter was shot down shortly after we spotted the downed bird. After scanning it and taking its form, Screamer had blown the Raptor out of the sky and Blackout did the same with our MH-53, the survivors were slaughtered--everyone but me.

"I was considered to be in the best condition and therefore captured alive to be the 'specimen' Sky had requested. He wanted to take me back to his laboratory on Cybertron and set out immediately, Starscream having brutally knocked me unconscious for the trip. We were just breaking free from the Earth's gravity when I came to. I went ballistic, smashing everything I could inside Skyfire's cockpit, hoping enough damage would make him turn around and head back to Earth. What I didn't know was that his hyperdrive systems had been activated, were about to engage, and there was already no going back. I managed to damage his navigational systems just enough to knock us slightly off course, though.

"As we traveled through hyperspace we passed through some kind of anomaly which created an accidental chain reaction. For a brief moment in time, we were completely merged together, mind, body, soul and spark, and then pulled apart into separate individuals again. But when we separated out, not everything went back to its original owner. Alot of the particles making up my human body were replaced with Sky's Cybertronian mass and he retained the human stuff I lost. The transfered matter was such an insignificant amount to him, that his body just processed the organic material as waste and dumped it out into the vastness of space. It was another matter entirely for me. Thankfully, the metals that make up the transformers' bodies are meant to take on other forms and somehow the Cybertronian particles I obtained took the form of my original human parts they replaced. That's how I survived it all. That's why I am what I am now. And that's how I can understand their language."

Sam's eyes were enormous. This was a lot to take in all at once. "Did you make it to Cybertron?"

"Yes," she looked down at her lap, "The remaining Decepticons were still fighting with a small army of Autobots. Their planet is a wreck! It's pretty much dead, and now that the All Spark is gone, I don't see much hope for it."

"So why are you here now? I mean, I know you said you came to kill me and Mikeala, but you haven't done that yet. And it doesn't seem likely that you would tell me your life story if you meant to kill me."

She smiled sadly at him. "That will come out in time, Sam."

Sam grew quiet for a moment pondering all he had heard. A thought struck him, "Am I... are you going to hold me prisoner? Am I a hostage now?"

"No," it was not the cyborg that spoke, but rather the towering Decepticon that had been quiet for so long, his presence all but forgotten. "You are free to leave whenever it pleases you." His deep bass voice held a light Russian accent, the "r's" pronounced with a slight roll, and Sam guessed he must have spent most of his time on Earth hiding in the former Soviet Union. After all, his chosen vehicle form was that of a Russian made SU-47 Firkin fighter jet.

"Is that...? I am?" Sam wasn't sure who to ask, but he turned to the talkative cyborg.

Gesturing back to the black mech she responded, "Hey, he's in charge."

"He... He is?"

"Oh, yeah. Sky's pretty high up in the Decepticon chain of command. He's on a level just beneath Starscream, and somewhat equal to Soundwave and Shockwave. He's here to personally oversee our mission at hand." She winked playfully at Sam, but he wasn't sure that he liked what she meant by that.

"So what exactly should I call you? I mean at the high school you said your name was Liv Wire, and just now you said it was Natalia Jumper."

She laughed lightly, "It gets worse! When I was active duty, my friends called me either Natty or Jumper, Barricade calls me Mutant, Sky calls me the little one, my given Decepticon designation is Live Wire... I guess you can just pick one of the nicer ones and go with that."

"Your friends called you Natty?"

"Yeah," she said solemnly, "Back when they were all still alive. Last time I saw them was at Quatar a few months before Blackout struck."

Sam swallowed hard against that sad news. "Can I call you Natty then?"

"We're not friends by any means, but if that's what you want. Whatever." She waved her hand dismissively at him.

The black jet suddenly stiffened and Natty (aka Live Wire) tensed. "What is it Sky?"

"We have company."

She sighed, but remained tense, "Oh, it's probably just Barricade coming back early."

"No. Not Barricade. I am detecting an Autobot energy signature approaching the hangar." Sky gazed pointedly at Sam, who felt himself squirm a bit under those red optics. "The scout has followed you."

Natty's eyes flashed with anger as she rounded on Sam, "You led the scout to us?!"

Sam felt sure his life was forfeit at this moment, "No! I ditched him! I mean, I thought I ditched him! I didn't know he was following me! Honestly! I don't know how he found me! Us! You!" He put his hands up defensively, afraid the two Decepticons would kill him after all.

The tall mech spoke quickly in Cybertronian and the cyborg girl nodded to him. Grabbing Sam's wrist in the vice like grip of her mech hand, she pulled him to his feet and across the hangar to the door they had come in through an hour ago. Sam stumbled behind her struggling to break free.

"Stop that," she breathed in a deadly quiet voice. "I'm taking you to the scout. Hopefully he hasn't called for backup yet." She stopped for a moment to shoot an angry glare over her shoulder at Sam. "You truly are a foolish boy!" she hissed.

Pausing at the door, she seemed to be listening, or maybe scanning, for something. Carefully, slowly, she pushed the door open, and then shoved Sam through ahead of her into the cool, darkened night, maintaining that crushing hold on his wrist. Once out of the hangar, she pulled him behind her again, running along the side of another building. She held her ground just before the corner of the building she was using as cover and whispered back to Sam. "When you get to the scout, convince him to take you away from here. If he stays, Sky will kill him. And possibly you too."

Sam jerked his arm in her grip trying to free himself again, her words hitting him like blows. "What happened to all this benevolent talk about not killing me tonight?"

The murderous look in her eyes quelled his struggles. "We're Decepticons, Sam. No Autobot will leave us alive, regardless of our intentions. This is war. Kill or be killed." She turned back to face forward, straining to see something not yet visible. "Where is he Sky? I'm not getting anything yet. _Blast_, he's good!"

They both jumped when the reply came not over her comm link, but rather from directly behind them. "Four buildings down. He's tracking us, but there are more energy signals approaching from the west." Skyfire was crouching between the buildings, his enormous form consuming the space behind the two, gazing out over thier heads. "The scout is circling around behind us."

Natty nodded and pulled the terrified Sam between the black mech and the building. "Sam, you have to convince him to retreat with his comrades!" They stopped at the back side of the building, Natty flattening herself against the bricks.

The two heard Skyfire call out loudly in Cybertronian, and Natty cringed, cursing under her breath.

"What did he say?" Sam asked in a trembling whisper.

"He's calling for a surrender." Her tone was desparate and defeated.

"Surrender?" Sam was suprised at the audacity.

Natty shot him a nasty look, "Not them, you dolt!" she whispered harshly, "_Our_ surrender. He wants to negotiate _our_ surrender."

Sam relaxed a bit at this news. But Natty was shaking her head. She tugged at his wrist, "I'd rather not be an Autobot prisoner. Neither side is very kind to POW's. And Decepticons are not allowed to be capture alive." Something about the way she said this last curled a sympathizing fear in the pit of Sam's stomach. He determined he would do all he could to help them get away. Within reason, of course.

More strange words were heard, but the voice was this time familiar. Sam felt his heart leap at the sound of the old weapons specialist's voice. Ironhide. "What did he say?"

"Huh?" Natty had been listening so intently she had forgotten the boy couldn't understand the language. "Oh. He denied the request. He's demanding your immediate release before he'll consider any surrender." She sighed, "Sky won't go for that." She edged away from the corner of the building. "I can sense the scout. He's closing in."

Sam felt like he should plead for his life, for his release, but he didn't want to see these two strange Decepticons tortured at the hands of his friends either. The realities of war rolled over him, pulling him in two directions.

Skyfire called back, and again Sam queried the cyborg. "That was a warning not to fire upon us, because you will be harmed." Sam jerked back in fright, but Natty went on, "It loses something in the translation," she frowned. "The implication was not that we would harm you, but that their own volleys would harm you."

She leaned out around the building cautiously, then pulled Sam behind her as she quietly crept along the back of the building. "Come on, Sam," she whispered impatiently. "Let's get you to your guardian, and stop this before it gets ugly."

Skyfire's foreign words echoed around them, but Natty was no longer translating, "It doesn't matter now. They're not going for it anyway. They're to intent on getting you back."

The cyborg pulled him between two more buildings, and headed to the front of one, each step silent and calculated. He could feel the tension in her grip bruising his wrist, but her cat-like stealthiness was a thing of beauty despite its deadliness. She suddenly turned and wrapped her arms around him in a tight, unfriendly embrace. There was a brief warping of what little light was given off by the stars above them, as she made it silently clear he was not to make a sound. In the distance he could hear soft mechanoid foot falls passing by. Realizing Bumblebee must be nearby, he fought the urge to call out to his friend and guardian. Judging by the strength with which she held him still, it would be nothing for the cyborg to break his body in half before he could utter a word.

After a long moment she released him, holding one finger to her lips with a warning in those battle ready eyes. Sam rubbed at the bruises on his wrist, finally finding himself free of her grasp. She padded around him to the corner of the building they had just come from, motioning for him to follow. Peering around the corner cautiously, she motioned for him to do the same. There stood the yellow Autobot, his back to them. When the mech twitched, she shoved Sam back behind the building, careful that neither made a sound. In a barely audible whisper, "Sky knows he's there." She shook her head at Sam's confused look, refusing to explain further. "If he tries to attack, Sky will kill him." To erase any possible doubts he may have, she added, "Skyfire earned his name from the amount of fire power he carries with him." Sam's eyes widened, remembering the arsenal he had seen mounted on the black mech's arms and shoulders, wondering what else may have been hidden from sight. "Approach your guardian, but don't suprise him," she smiled wryly, "He may shoot you by mistake! Get him away from Skyfire." Sam nodded and she gently pushed him out into the open.

Sam took a few uncertain steps forward and then glanced back at the cyborg watching him. She motioned for him to keep going, and he swallowed hard against his apprehension, taking another step and whispering, "Bee..."

The yellow Autobot jumped slightly, whirling on Sam, plasma cannons glowing with a ready charge. Recognizing the boy, relief washed the mech's face, his door wings swinging fully erect. He lowered his guns, waving Sam closer. Glancing back again to where Natty had been watching him, Sam found she was gone, and turned his attention back to his friend. Bumblebee followed his gaze, peering suspiciously at the corner where the cyborg girl had been, picking up residual heat from not one but two bodies. Giving Sam a quick once over, the scout pointed to a hangar a few hundred yards away, silently indicating Sam should take cover there. Unsure of what to do, he decided to follow his guardian's orders and trotted away, but was alarmed when the mech wasn't behind him. Remembering the girl's parting words, he turned back to Bumblebee waving for him to follow. The yellow Autobot shook his head, a malicious gleam in his blue optics. His door wings twitched with anticipation as he raised his plasma guns and slowly turned back toward the open space where Skyfire was still calling out in Cybertronian.

He saw it, although he wasn't entirely sure what it was that he saw. As Sam watched his friend and guardian creep around the corner crouching to take aim, there was this strange silloutte, almost like the dim night's light being bent around a small figure, that rushed out after him. He lost sight of it, but heard the soft thump on Bumblebee's chest plate. The confused mech had looked down at his armour, reaching his left hand up to brush something off, when a spray of electric blue fire and sparks streaked out from under his shoulder plate and around the right side of his neck. His door wings drooped, cannons powered down and shoulder missiles retracted, while his blue optics grew wide. He was alarmed to find he couldn't subspace his guns and bring his right hand back out leaving him partial crippled as he clawed his own chest trying to get at something unseen that was reeking havoc on his internal systems. Wires and chips were torn out and flung away, and painful arcs of lightening crawled across his body, ripping agonized screams from his vocalizer. Finally his hand closed on something and he threw it to the ground. An image flickered, and Sam recognized the little cyborg girl.

"NO!" Sam screamed, not really sure which one he was yelling at, certain he wanted them both to stop. But she was up in a flash, leaping and flipping around the mech's attempts to grab her or pin her down. Bumblebee grasped a free standing gun in his one hand, which he had pulled out from Sam couldn't tell where, and followed the jumping cyborg with it in a threatening manner, but the gun never charged up.

"You're soft, Autobot!" Her words rang out like a war cry as she sprang into the air, twisting away from the offline plasma cannons the mech used to swat at her, and landing on his torso clinging there somehow. Her mech arm shifted, hand retracting and being replaced by a wicked little cannon similar in make up to one of Ironhide's, but on a much smaller scale. With a vicious shove, she planted it firmly into the yellow scout's midsection and a loud WHUMP! echoed off the surrounding buildings. A sickly blue light rolled out from where the girl's cannon connected with the mech's torso and the soft, life indicating hum of the transformer's body cut off. It sounded like a large generator shutting down. Every light, every spark of life went out across Bumblebee's body, his back arching, arms falling uselessly to his sides, gun slipping from his paralyzed hand. The agony contorting his face relaxed into peace, but the fear never left his blue optics as they faded out. The life-waning body crashed to its knees, door wings drawn completely down against its back, giving up one last violently convulsive twist, and then fell onto its back with a deafening boom.

Sam realized he was screaming, running towards his beloved friend, but he never felt the ground under his feet, never knew what exactly he was screaming. His heart had twisted in agony with the last tremor the yellow body gave before falling to the ground. How could this be? This Autobot had survived so many things, Megatron had crushed his body, he had been rendered mute for a millenium, his legs were blown off during the fight at Mission City... each time this stalwart warrior had come back to fight again, but now... this couldn't be how it ended!

Reaching the motionless body, Sam began hitting and tugging at a large yellow arm, cries of, "Get up! Come on, Bee, you have to wake up!" Echoing through the night. Desperation drove him on. Reaching the mech's face, inclined slightly toward him, he let out a heart wrenching wail at the deathly stillness of those always playful features, the optics completely black. "NOOOO!" The tears flowed without any effort made to check them, and he felt as if his own life had ended as well.

Hope sprang up in him upon hearing a soft tapping noise coming across the yellow scout's body, but when he looked up, his hope crashed. There before him was the dirt smeared face of the one responsible for his soul's death. The anger boiled up in him, but he felt rooted to the ground in hopelessness.

Natty gazed down at him disdainfully. "What a scene! He's not dead, you moron! I put him in stasis lock." At the tear streaked confusion on Sam's face, she explained dismissively, "It's kinda somewhere between being knocked out and a coma. I saved his life, ya know. Sky would have killed him without a second thought." Her fingers mimicked an explosion, "Blown him apart!" Just then her face lifted up and she stared defensively at something above and behind him. Turning to follow her gaze, he saw Ratchet walking slowly up behind him, spinning saw on one arm, gun in the other pointed toward the sky, his face stern and murderously angry. Sam had never seen Ratchet look so fearsome as he did now.

"Get behind me, Sam." Reluctant though he was to leave Bumblebee, the commanding tone of Ratchet's voice was not to be ignored. Sam walked slowly behind the tall medic, watching the cyborg, all the while, who was still standing on the yellow scout's chest. "Disarm." She dropped her head in defeat. From off to the side came the quiet bass of Skyfire's voice in Cybertronian. Without lifting her head, she glanced sideways at the black mech, restrained on either side by Ironhide and Optimus, Jazz and Wheeljack standing in front of him with guns target locked. She nodded silently, sighing her resignation to her fate. Ratchet regarded her carefully, running a quick scan, "Very well, then." Turning to Sam he requested that the boy take a wire cord handed to him and tightly bind the cyborg's wrists together behind her back, leaving enough length to serve as a leash to keep hold of her. Ratchet's own hands were too large for the task.

As he worked the cord around the girl's wrists, intentionally returning the merciless bruising she had bestowed upon him earlier, his curiosity got the better of him. "What did Skyfire say to you when Ratchet told you to disarm."

She only sighed at first, but then responded. "Skyfire can disarm my weapons systems remotely. It was a verbal command to my secondary processor, something I cannot override, unfortunately."


	6. Pleading

**Unfortunately, I have had much difficulties in life recently, and have not been able to post as often as I would like. This has not been beta read, as my beta has an exciting new writing project that takes up all her time. I still run things by her, though, and am looking for a new beta. I CANNOT find one to replace her, but maybe someone can fill in for her for the time being! All my love to kaydeeblu!**

**Also, check out the Move Stuff to see the alternate chapters for 7 and 8! I chose a different direction to keep things moving forward, but the alternates are entertaining as well.**

* * *

It was determined that the prisoners would not be taken back to the Autobot's headquaters, but would instead be held captive in a remote location outside of town. An old friend of the transformers' being contacted, it was quickly arranged for the prisoners to be confined in a barn located on Captain Will Lenox's family ranch. The Autobots would take turns guarding them until it was determined what exactly should be done with them, sending them back to Cybertron not really being an option. The barn would keep the individual prisons as well as the guards from being easily spotted from either the air or ground.

The trek across the desert, and around the town, was a long one, Will's property being several miles to the North of the little airstrip. The robots were forced to walk in order to keep the large Decepticon jet from escaping. Ratchet was able to reactivate Bumblebee's primary and secondary systems, but more time and tools would be needed before the yellow mech's weaponry could be repaired. The medic did manage, however, to retract his offline plasma cannons, giving him the use of both hands. Sam had been beside himself with joy when the little Autobot's blue optics lit up, babbling on about how he had thought the scout dead and the painful feelings this had brought on, to which Bumblebee had laughingly replied, "You can't get rid of me that easy, Sam!"

The scout gleefully took the job of escorting the little cyborg, dragging her mercilessly, while carrying his charge, Sam, close to his chest in one arm. He delightfully made the half mechanoid prisoner stumble frequently, a vengeful grin touching his features as he pulled her across the ground, never slowing his pace while she struggled to gain her footing again--that is, until Optimus caught him and he was sternly informed him that he _would_ treat the prisoners with dignity and respect. And although a protest registered on the faces of the other Autobots as well, no one argued the point.

The arrival at Captain Will Lennox's property in the middle of the night proved even more eventful. Sam had forgotten that the Captain was one of a handful of survivors from Blackout's attack on Quatar when the little Decepticon had enlightened him about her former life in the U.S. military, but no one could have expected the reaction of the Captain when he caught site of the cyborg's face. She had spotted him first and hid behind the yellow scout's legs, hoping to go unnoticed, but the mech was not having it. Bumblebee had none to gently pulled her out into the open in order to find what exaclty she was hiding from. She stumbled forward, carefully keeping her head down, but the Captain's gasp told of his recognition despite her efforts. All heads turned, all eyes and optics stared. Will's face drained of its color and his mouth hung open. Fear, disgust, shock, and disbelief waged war on his ghostly white features.

"You!" he breathed. "You're dead! I _saw_ the wreckage! The bodies!"

"Do you know her?" Concern over the Captain's reaction was evident in Ratchet's voice.

"Natty?" Will approached her as though approaching a sleeping lion infamous for a man-eating nature. Standing before her, disbelief winning the war on his face, he reached out tenatively and brushed the disheveled coils of hair out of her face, flinching at the sight of all that metal. "What happened to you?" he whispered.

She shook off his touch and turned away, keeping her head down, never once meeting his gaze.

"This is one of the Decepticon prisoners... " Ratchet began, mildly confused.

"No!" Will shook his head, "No, the Natty I know would never sell out to the enemy! She was a soldier to the end!"

"Things change, Captain." Her quiet voice cracked with all the bitterness of her ordeal. "People change... when you don't have a choice..." her voice dropped off into a sigh.

"I don't believe that for a minute, Sergeant." he snapped, his military bearing kicking in. "You'd better have a real good explaination, 'cause from where I'm standing, this looks like treason!" He regarded her with disgust for a moment and then jerked his head toward the barn, "Get her out of my sight!"

Bumblebee obliged, jerking the cyborg along behind him. While the other Autobots secured their prisoners, Optimus took a moment to discuss this discovery with Captain Lennox, explaining that she could be kept elsewhere if her presence was too disturbing for him. But Will decided he wanted her to stay, if for no other reason than the opportunity to interrogate her, seeking to know the reason for her current condition as well as her allegiance to the Decepticons. He also felt her fate was more a federal decision than one that should rest with the aliens, and Optimus agreed that this was the best course of action, since she was primarily human.

Not wanting the two Decepticons to be able to communicate, and ignorant of their special connection to each other, a small cage was fashioned and hung from a large oak tree a few hundred feet away from the barn to dissuade escape; Natty was secured inside it. Jazz and Captain Lennox took the first watch, firearms at the ready and not speaking a word to her. Ratchet picked up where he had left off with Bumblebee's repairs, and Wheeljack offered to take the overly exhausted Sam home, chiding him on the way for ditching his guardian and snickering at the boy's attempt to justify his actions with the capture of the two Decepticons, jet and assassin. Under Ironhide's watchful, armed guard, Skyfire was questioned by Optimus Prime about his current mission, and the state of the little cyborg.

Optimus noticed it first, after every question the tall black prisoner, chained and bound, seemed to be listening to an another unheard voice, sometimes giving his head a slight shake or nod, before answering. The mech was certainly _not_ long winded, and this strange behavior seemed to indicate an inner instability. Ironhide began to shift his weight uneasily, and Optimus noted he must have caught this as well. Oddly enough the Decepticon was very open about the story of the little cyborg, carefully explaining every detail.

Ratchet determined his need to return to their base for specialized tools, and, released from the medic's repair session, Bumblebee wandered over to where Captain Lennox was quietly watching his former friend and comrade, taking a seat in the dirt next to him. Jazz sat nearby cataloging the weaponry stripped from the large Decepticon jet. Natty was silently staring at the ground far below, legs sticking out between the bars and swinging in the air, hands flat on each thigh, and head resting against her prison. Looking up at the yellow scout's approach, she broke from distant thoughts and focused on the guards, both mechanoid and human.

"How is Sarah?" Natty's quiet voice stung the night air. The Captain glared up at her. "And the baby? I remember how we used to tease you mercilessly about her. She was all you would talk about. It must have been great to finally get home and hold her for the first time." The Captain ripped at a nearby clump of grass. "You know, I was always a little jealous. I never had a father--never had a mother for that matter, and you were so devoted to her--"

"That's no excuse, Jumper," the Captain growled.

"I'm not making excuses, Captain, I'm making small talk."

"Well, I don't want small talk. I want answers."

"You haven't asked any questions."

He stood up, tossing the grass angrily. Bumblbee shifted his weight watching the exchange with growing curiousity, arms resting on his knee joints.

"You know," she turned her attention to the yellow Autobot when the Captain said nothing further, "I can fix that. After all, I'm the one who broke it."

The yellow mech picked up his gun and pointed squarely at her. Jazz's attention was caught by the scout's quick movements; watching apprehensively, he said nothing.

"I'm really good at getting into small spaces," she went on, ignoring the sound of the gun charging up, "I'm notorious for being able to crawl under armour plating and reach the hardest to reach places." A large, yellow finger rested lightly on the trigger.

The Captain cut in at this point, "I think you should stop now. He's not under my command, and nearly three times my size."

"Huh! You think I care? Waste me, _please!_ Ya think I wanna be like this? Look at me! I'm not really human anymore--certainly not one of them! Despised by both species... Oh, and let's not forget Decepticons aren't supposed to let themselves get captured, so now there's a bounty on my head. Killing me now would be doing me a favor!"

"Stand down Bee," Jazz said quietly, returning to his task. "So tell me... How is it that ya know the Captain," he continued in the same nuetrally quiet voice, casting a side glance in the yellow mech's direction to verify his command had been obeyed.

The caged bird hesitated eyeing her silver Autobot captor with mild suspicion before answering. "I hung out with some of the guys under his command. He was often with them in their down time," she smiled softly at the angry man, "He's a good commander. But what I don't get is how he survived. Blackout said he took out everyone! You were still stationed there weren't you? Or did you go home early?"

The Captain sighed staring at the ground, his troubled memories evident on his strained face. "That's not important. It's classified anyway." Looking up solemnly he asked, "What happened Jumper? How did you get here?"

With a mischevious grin, she quipped, "Their medic is rather persuasive!"

The Captain shook his head, her ever present sarcasm was still intact despite her apparent lack of honour. "You know what I mean."

Taking a deep breath, she began to explain her capture and fateful trip to Cybertron, telling them all she had revealed preveiously to Sam. "_You_ went to Cybertron?" the silver second in command stared at her in disbelief. When she nodded, he went on, "Huh. I really didn' think a human could survive tha trip!"

"Well..." she gestured to her half mechanoid face, "I didn't really survivie it as a human, now, did I?"

"Hmm." Jazz nodded, but his visored optics narrowed a bit at her petulance. "Go on." He waved a three fingered hand at her, his task of catalogging weapons forgotten in his lap. "How'd ya get back ta Earth, then?"

She played with her fingers for a moment looking for all the world as if she were listening to a distant voice. With a small nod, she focused her attention back on her impatient audience.

"When we reached Cybertron, Sky was in bad shape. He was taken to the Decepticon's med bay and I was thrown into a holding cell. Rumble was on gaurd duty that day, and he taunted me mercilessly for a while. There were three other mechs in the cell with me. I didn't catch their names, I really wasn't interested in introductions at the time. I was scared out of my mind and totally _freakin'_ over the changes in my body.

"One of them kept trying to help me, but he didn't speak very good English--none of them did. That's when I realized I could understand _their_ language if I concentrated hard enough. But I couldn't speak it. Still can't. The one that kept trying to help me, he was kinda cherry red and charcoal grey, said he was a scientist. He kept asking me what kind of life form I was, and why the Decepticons wanted me. But _I_ didn't know. I was too panicked to really deal with all his questions. Then he asked me what he could do to make me more comfortable. I was really shocked at that one. It was the first time since I'd been captured that anyone showed any concern over my well being. I told him if he could get me back to Earth and make me fully human again, that would be great! He kinda frowned at me, said he really couldn't do that right now as we were all prisoners, but anything else he would certainly try.

"It was about that time that I started hearing Sky in my head! At first I thought it was one of the three in the cell with me, but they kept telling me they hadn't said anything. I _really_ started freakin' out when I realized it was Skyfire. He was pretty freaked out about it too! We just kept telling each other to shut up, but neither of us could turn it off or tune it out.

"That scientist mech started gettting real worried, he seemed to think I was losing my mind--and I probably was. After some more qestions he figured it out. But...he couldn't fix it. Said I'd likely be stuck with this for life! I didn't like that idea. I went ballistic, punching and kicking at anything! Then my arm changed. It turned into this EMP cannon, only I didn't know that's what it was. I swung it around trying to get it off me, like it was some kind of critter that had attached itself, right? The other three were yelling at me to stop, ducking everytime I whipped it around. I backed up next to the bars of the prison while the scientist tried to get me to calm down, but one look at my arm set me off again. I turned my back to him and slammed the cannon muzzle to the floor_. Of course_, it went off. Rumble had been standing close by, watching the excitment. He got hit with the blast, and went down. I was stunned! The other three cheered and asked me to try to aim a blast at the console across from our cell. It took a few tries, but I managed to hit it, and the energy field powered off. It was nothing for them to break through what was left of the prison and we were all suddenly free.

"They wanted to take me back to _their_ base but I refused. It wouldn't have been real freedom, and anyway, the Decepticons would have found them with a quickness if _I_ went with them. You see, I share a link of sorts with Skyfire. He always knows where I am, and I him. I knew at that point, the only way through this mess, was together with him. The three Autobots--that's what they said they were--escaped, and I waited for Sky. He made sure he was the first one to get there, despite his injuries. From then on we were pretty much insperable."

"That's quite a tale," the Captain said a little awed, "But it still doesn't explain why you're here."

"Or why you told Mikeala you wanted to kill her and Sam!" Bumblebee chimed in angrily.

She grimaced, "I didn't say I _wanted_ to kill them." She threw a bitter smirk at the yellow scout then continued. "The Decepticons made use of my knack for mechanics, assigning me to the med bay and also putting me on any odd job requiring small hands in small places. Sky made a bunch of modifications to his own quarters to meet my biological needs and housed me there instead of his lab.

"But the one project I worked on the most was the space bridge." This garnered quite a reaction from both Autobots and some confusion from the Captain. Jazz questioned her in Cybertronian, not sure he had translated the words correctly. Confirming that she had indeed been talking about a space bridge, he demanded more information about it, which she refused to give. "The bridge isn't as important as the plans for it's use. Starscream has amassed an enormous army of Decepticons. They're all on Cybertron, waiting for the bridge to be opened here on Earth. They will strike fast and furious, well aware that they out number you by far. You're only chance is to take out the bridge itself, but you have to get _both_ of them, otherwise it's just a small matter of time to build another one."

Both mechs were on their feet now, Bumblebee fidgeting restlessly watching Jazz pace.

"I volunteered for the assassin job. It's to be done first, before the strike. Sam and Mikeala are just two among many. Anyone that ever helped you guys or smoehow crossed the Decepticons is on that hit list. I volunteered, knowing it would bring me back to Earth. I figured I could warn _somebody_ about the bridges. Sky suggested we take this info to Optimus Prime.

"He said once that was done, we could leave. Abandon the war, and find some place else, where we could finally find peace. You see, neither one of us wants to fight. Not for either side. For all the terror he can reign down on a battlefield, Sky is really a pacifist. He hates killing, regardless of whose side you're on. Me, I just want the nightmare to end--make it all go away, ya know?"

Jazz nodded, he could certainly relate to that. After a long silence, the caged cyborg spoke up again, "Like I said before, scout, I can fix that for you." The yellow mech froze, then slowly lifted his head to stare warily at her. "No harm, no foul? It's the least I can do. I really didn't want to attack you, it's just that sneaking up on Sky like that, well, he was gonna kill you for the effort. He was afraid you might..." She hesitated looking at the ground and then back at the yellow Autobot. "My... My human half is dependent upon my mech half to sustain it. My mech half is alot like _your_ mechanoid body, dependent upon a spark for its life. But I don't have a spark of my own, I kinda borrow Sky's. Kill him, and I die too. He wasn't about to let you put me in jeopardy like that, so I had to stop you. He would have killed you to protect me."

Bumblebee nodded slowly, "Ratchet will be back soon enough."

"You look dead on your feet Captain," Jazz's voice carried a warm comraderie, "Why don't you go on in and get some rest. We got this," the silver mech nodded at him reassuringly.

Captain Lennox silently agreed and began making his way back toward the house in the distance.

"Captain...?" Natty called out with a worried urgency to her voice. "You... You're not still gonna turn me over to the military are you?" He turned back to answer her question, but she cut him off, "Cause I'm not really human anymore, so they can justify all kinds of experiments and disections and what not. And when they do--_and you know they will_--Sky will go crazy. I mean _really _crazy! He'll unleash a fury like you've never seen before! So it would be bad all around if you turn me in," she paused, her desperation reaching its peak, "_Please_ don't turn me in!"

The exhausted man shrugged, "I'm not gonna make a decision tonight. I'll discuss it with Optimus and Jazz in the morning and we'll let you know."

"Captain," she looked very much like a frightened child at that very moment, awakening a protectiveinstinct in all three onlookers, Cybertronian and human alike. "_They'll dissect me,"_ she said it so quietly it was almost a whisper, but the fear in her voice screamed loud and clear.

He stared at her for a moment begining to sway in his decision. Shaking his head, he said, "We'll talk in the morning."

The young cyborg slid down the bars, slumping to the floor of the softly swaying cage. Captain Will Lennox heaved a burdened sigh and dragged himself back to his house and bed.


	7. Retaliation

**Mi Vida Loca has gotten in the way of writing. Well, life does that. Thanks to all who have reviewed! Much thanks to kaydeeblu who has beta'ed and been a solid wall to bounce ideas off! Thanks also to Catbite for further inspiration! Thanks also to "Ghost" for the input (I'm gonna get to it, I promise!) Thanks also to KoPilot for the review and kind words! Thanks again to Dranira, my faithful reviewer. Honestly folks, if you like it, say so! If it stinks, air that out too! _Please? Pretty please with sugar on top? _Have mercy on a poor girl! ;) Lots o'Love to all my fellow MW's! You know who you are! Thanks for reading. **

**On a more STORY related note: I have changed alot to keep the story moving forward. If you want to know what happened in the two missing weeks, check out my side story "Move Stuff." It has different drabbles and things that didn't fit into this storyline for whatever reason. I really wanted to put the card game in here, but it just ate up space and didn't really fit. It is rather funny, though. **

* * *

**Retaliation.**

The little cyborg was fidgeting, as usual, under the intense gaze of the Autobot Commander. It had been two weeks since their capture, a very _long_ two weeks. To say that she was difficult would be underestimating the situation. Her loyalties lay strictly with the tall black former Decepticon, Skyfire, and not at all with those she still somewhat regarded as her captors, the Autobots. Most of her recent rebelliousness stemmed from the shock of the black jet's temporary defection to the Autobot cause.

In an effort to prove his trustworthiness, Skyfire had convinced his little adopted sister to remain under the careful watch of the Autobots, while he went about the necessary movements to set into motion a plan he had rather daringly devised. In order to shut down both the space bridge on Earth and the one on Cybertron, a team of Autobots would be sent through under the guise of prisoners intended for the arena. The former Decepticon was to accompany them posing as their captor. Once on Cybertron, the space bridge would be destroyed in a risky, and possibly suicidal, operation.

There would be another team of Autobots waiting in the Decepticon Command Center's holding cells, intentionally planted and awaiting the insurgents from Earth. The two teams would rendezvous and fight their way out after the destruction of the bridge. Meanwhile, the space bridge located on Earth would be destroyed as soon as the Autobots had been safely transported through to the other side.

As part of the deal, the little cyborg was to accompany the Autobots and Skyfire to Cybertron, since she could not survive separation of such a distance between herself and the one who held the spark she shared. Bumblebee was assigned to keep a tight leash on her until the mission was completed, just in case. This would ensure no treachery on Skyfire's part, as her suffering, it was discovered, was shared by the larger mech. From there, the two—affectionately dubbed the "dynamic duo," by Wheeljack—would be free to go their own way, something they both looked forward to.

Today, the cyborg was being assigned a small, but crucial, task of passing false information on to the Decepticon scout, Barricade, her former partner. She would be closely monitored by both Wheeljack and Bumblebee. Optimus Prime had taken it upon himself to explain the details of her latest assignment, with Skyfire standing in on the meeting--mainly to keep her from smarting off as she was wont to do.

Optimus watched as she sent a pointed glare at the black jet standing to his side. "He's gonna kill me, you know that right? By now, he'll have had to report our disappearance to Screams, and you _know_ what that means!"

The tall mech shifted uneasily, nodding, but staring at the ground instead of meeting her heated gaze.

"Thanks a lot, _bro._ Feed me to the wolf, why don't ya!" Turning that hateful glare on the Autobot leader, she spat, "And I hope you have to listen to every last bit of his screeching while I get the beating of my life! _If _I survive at all!"

Optimus gave the black Firkin a dubious look, maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Barricade's vengeful violence was legendary. But Skyfire shook his head, "He will not kill her," throwing a warning glance at Natty, "She is too valuable to him."

Optimus hesitated a moment waiting for further explanation, but none was forthcoming from the taller mech, his firm gaze making it clear he would elaborate no further. The "dynamic duo" still held many secrets between them that they were absolutely unwilling to share. It reminded the red and blue mech of another duo with the same unbreakable loyalty betwixt them: a certain fierce yellow warrior and his equally dangerous "twin" brother. The pair before him now, was much easier to control, however.

"It's settled, then," the Commander heaved a burdened sigh. "Natty, you will accompany Wheeljack and Bumblebee to the high school this morning. Barricade has been staking out the school specifically, albeit from a distance. I _think_ he's just wanted to make his presence known, since he hasn't made any other moves."

"Prob'bly," the cyborg agreed, "Without a clear mission, he's like a lost puppy dog. Our surrender, probably has him questioning the meaning of life, at this point!" She giggled, winking playfully at Skyfire.

* * *

It had been two earth weeks since the black and white Decepticon Mustang had seen either his field commander or his charge, and his searches had turned up little except an escape through the desert. There wasn't any residuals from weapons fire, which he found very strange, so _initially_ he hadn't known anything was amiss until the entire night had passed without their return. In the early morning light, he found evidence of a struggle in the desert dirt outside the airstrip , but someone had taken great pains to cover and confuse the clues, leaving him little to go on. The trail was cold and hard to follow by the time he had realized they were taken prisoner by the Autobots. It _had _to have been the Autobots, since the humans just weren't enough to take on Skyfire under any circumstances, and Live Wire would have left quite a trail of bodies in her own wake. But surely the two would not have gone down without a fight.

Reporting to Starscream had been the worst of it all. The new Decepticon leader wanted details Barricade just didn't have. The black and white mech had received quite the lashing for his lack of information, and that just did not sit well with him. He never liked Screamer in the first place, but to be so humiliated by him was beyond... ! Best not to dwell on that. When he did find those two there would be a lot they needed to explain!

Such were his thoughts, as the Saleen Mustang cased a high school where a certain Sam Witwicky and Mikeala Banes were known to attend. The yellow scout was in his usual place, and an added guard by the name of Wheeljack in the form of a green and red striped, white Ferrari 599 GTB Fiorano sat nearby, parked on the side of the street amongst waiting parents in minivans and SUV's. Barricade had found it necessary to hide down the street monitoring from a distance. He had no plans really, and found himself just going through the motions, tracking the mark as he had been doing before his comrades' sudden disappearance, and feeling totally at a loss.

It was then that a famliar sound all too realistically seemed to haunt his processor. It was the rippling Decepticon cyborg's laughter, and it was coming from the parking lot where the Autobot Bumblebee sat in wait for his charges, the two teens. Scanning the area, Barricade found that she was indeed there, sitting on the yellow mech's hood and apparently _enjoying_ the company. The two were sharing jokes and teasing each other almost flirtatiously.

Barricade could feel his circuits crackle with rage. That was _his_ minion, sitting with the Autobot! _His_ charge was cutting it up with the enemy! _His _little assassin was getting cozy with another mech! _How dare she?!_ Had she forgotten that she was a Decepticon? Had she forgotten who had spent precious time and energy training her when all others thought it a lost cause? Had she forgotten to whom she belonged? She must have. He would be sure to remind her!

With the sound of the last bell, came the out flow of hundreds of eager students, and, at that signal, the little cyborg jumped off her perch. She made her way through the parking lot as if searching for something she suspected would be close by. He watched her lithe form stand on the side walk at the end of the school grounds, eyes scanning up and down the road. When she spotted the Ferrari, she waved. _WAVED!_ It was a cheery exchange, as if she were actually _one of them! _And worse yet, it was greeted with a flash of headlights! _The Autobot had returned her greeting!_ Insult to injury, it was nothing less than that. This would NOT go unpunished. Her face turned in his direction and he felt himself _willing_ her to see him, come to him. He would settle this matter immediately.

Bouncing happily down the street toward where he was parked, she smiled at him. _Wipe that ridiculous look off your face, _his thoughts raged, _you fraggin', worthless, mutant, pile of scrap and flesh--!_

"Miss me 'Cade?" His silent rage had left him unable to vocalize a response, all he could do was quietly seethe. He gathered his wits about him quickly, though, and snapped open the passenger door, growling for her to get in, then slamming it shut almost on her legs.

Screeching away from the curb, and intentionally plowing through the meylay of students around the school, he let loose his anger on the small passenger. "Live Wire where the PIT HAVE YOU BEEN?! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU TWO AND WHERE IS SKYFIRE!? **AND WHAT WERE YOU DOING CHUMMING IT UP WITH AUTOBOTS?**!!"

Natty covered her ears at the harsh decibels she was bombarded with as he raced onto the highway and out of the town. "Wow! What's with the yelling? I just came to report in, good grief 'Cade! Chill already!"

"Chill? _CHILL?!"_

"Whoa! Wait! Give me a chance! Wow, I knew you'd be put off, but--"

_"PUT... OFF?!"_

" 'Cade! Settle down! Give a girl a chance, yo!"

The mech was quiet for a moment before continuing in a lower volume, "Tell me what has been going on." There was an iciness to his tone that worried the little cyborg.

"Okay... It's like this: we got ambushed by the Autobots, and Sky came up with this brilliant plan to infiltrate their ranks by surrendering. He managed to convince their leader that we wanted to defect! Can you believe that? Anyway, they bought it, hook, line, and sinker! So, now we can get to all the marks at once just about! That otta make Screamer's day! Huh, 'Cade?" She grinned proudly at the cleverness of the scheme.

The Decepticon transformer was silent for a while as he headed out towards the desert.

"Hey, 'Cade? Where are we going?"

"You are hiding something from me."

"Stop scanning me, will ya!" she bellowed defensively. "I'm not hiding anything from you! You're just... freakin' me out a bit here. What's with you anyway?"

"You left me to behind to be beaten by Starscream for your disappearance, and now you show up smelling like those fraggin' Autobots. Their goody-goody stench is all over you! You're even acting like those worthless scrap heaps you've been fraternizing with! And just now you were _cracking jokes with their scout!"_

"What? 'Cade... what are you getting at? Don't you realize that was just a facade? Where are we going?" Realization began to sink in. Barricade had suffered at the hands of Starscream and shit always ran downhill in the Decepticon ranks. What's more, he was not happy about the friendly exchange between her and Bumblebee. This would get ugly fast!

Pulling off the road he traveled out into the desert a few miles without another word to the distressed passenger he now held captive within. Satisfied they were far enough to not be seen, _or heard_, he came to an abrupt halt, swinging his door open and commanding, "Get out."

"No way," she squeaked, shrinking into the seat, "I'd rather be crushed in here than face whatever you have planned!"

"Get out NOW! Before I forcibly remove you." Natty jumped at the burning anger in his words and obeyed immediately, stumbling away as he swiftly transformed, looming above her. "It seems you have forgotten who is master and who is puppet" he snarled.

Recognizing the danger she was in, she knelt in the hot desert dirt, bowing her head and pleading, "Please! I know who is master, Lord Barricade! You are master and I am your unworthy puppet!" She heard it coming, but forced herself to no more than cringe in anticipation, dodging the blow would only bring more pain in the long run. The spiked back of his three fingered hand sent her sprawling a few yards away, smashing a cluster of cactus with her fleshy left side. Cactus spines dug deep along her side and back, twisting into some of the gears and wiring in her torso. Ignoring the pain from both blow and needles, she rolled back up into a submissive kneel, head bowed.

"You are master, Lord Barricade!" she cried out again desperately, but this did nothing to assuage the assault. Another blow rained down on her and she made certain to twist in the aftermath so as to avoid landing on her left and driving those spines any deeper into her flesh than they already were. Propping herself up on her right elbow, she wiped at her chin, the warm taste alerting her to the blood from somewhere inside her mouth. Everything hurt at this point, but the time for taking an injury inventory was not at hand--this thing wasn't over yet!

A clawed hand wrapped around her ankle and calf lifting her to hang upside down in front of the furious mech. Dangling quietly, she crossed her arms over her chest, her fingers brushing her own shoulders, in an attempt to keep her appendages close to her body, her free leg bent slightly at the knee and held at a small angle from the captive one. His narrow optics glowed a dark burgundy at her from within his anger contorted metal face, making him look more deadly demonic than usual.

It was then that it hit her. Experience from former beatings bringing home the truth. The black and white Decepticon had hit her with his hand instead of kicking her. This involved bending over and resulted in a softer blow; he was restraining himself, but why? Could it be that this punishment was due to something a little less obvious? He had certainly lost face, if he had suffered at Starscream's hands for her absence, and that, of course, called for proper retribution. But as her mind raced frantically over the last twenty four hours she'd been around him, the answer jumped out at her in the form of his own words_, "You drive me mad_... " He didn't really want to damage her, this wasn't about his humiliation, it was about his abandonment. This was about _him. _She'd left him, and he was letting her know this was unacceptable.

Her eyes widened at the sudden realization, making her appear to him even more terrified than before. He snarled with satisfaction at the apparent results as she trembled out the words once more, "You are master, Lord Barricade. I am your unworthy servant. I came to report to you Sky's plan. I meant no disrespect, please forgive me. I am at your gracious mercy," pausing for the effect, she put a special plea in the next words, "I belong only to you, Lord Barricade. _Completely _to you, my Lord."

With a dirissive snort, he dropped her unceremoniously unto the ground. She curled before impact, unfortunately driving the cactus needles deeply into her back and shoulder. Her cry of pain raced across the desert, dissipating as the sound traveled further on. No one would hear it save the mech who had caused it, and he had turned away.

Dragging herself up into an awkward sitting position she called to him, her voice breaking with waves agony from her injuries now hitting her full force. "Lord Barricade?" He glanced over his shoulder at her and then began to stride away, keeping his robot form as he went, his lack of concealment a taunting reminder of how isolated she was out here. "Sky wants me to report in to you regularly. 'Cade?" He froze. She watched as he stood still wondering if she had just pushed the mech into another rage. But he didn't move. Scrambling to her feet she jumped at the opportunity, and limped as fast as she could to stand, shaking, a few feet behind him. "I'm supposed to arrange time and place with you... 'Cade?" It was a big risk to call him that again, but, she thought it worth it.

"Do not address me so informally."

"Yes, Lord Barricade." Her eyes went to the ground. He was still standing there, frozen. What could be going through his processor, she couldn't tell, not while standing behind him. Slowly he began striding forward again, but this time at a pace she was able to struggle along with, as if deliberately allowing her to keep up. Despite this, she was careful to remain submissively behind him. Eventually they came close to the highway, and he transformed back into his vehicle mode. Offering no ride back to the town, he instead informed her gruffly that he expected her to report again at the high school after the teens had gone inside for the day. She nodded, giving a formal reply once more, and watched, devastated, as he sped away through the desert and out to the highway, leaving her to hobble back on her own. The one and only mech she had ever really connected with, outside of Skyfire, was now abandoning her when she needed him most.

* * *

Upon reaching the highway, she decided hitch hiking wasn't such a bad idea in her current condition. Hooking a thumb at the traffic, she was surprised to see a white Ferrari pulling off the road. As it neared her internal sensors, the ones still online, identified the vehicle's energy signal as belonging to an Autobot by the name of Wheeljack.

"Sparky." She smiled sadistically. He hated that nickname, but it was so much fun to razz him. As the passenger door clicked open she gave him the best grin she could manage, all things considered, but by his response it must have looked more like a grimace.

"What the slag happened to you? I was tracking your signature when all the sudden it veered off into the desert and I lost it!" a pause, then, "_Holy Primus,_ you look like the pit!"

"Nice to see you too_, Sparks_." She smirked at the dashboard, for lack of a face to smirk into. Twisting sideways as she climbed in, she carefully eased down into the seat, groaning all the while, her face contorting with the pain.

"Well?"

"Well _what?!"_

"Well... What happened?"

"Decepticons aren't allowed to surrender." It wasn't exactly a lie.

She winced as Wheeljack eased forward onto the asphalt, conscious of the pain every small road imperfection caused his small passenger, and trying his best to compensate. "Oh. Got the pit slagged out of ya, huh?"

"You could say that."

"Are you... Are you _wearing_ a cactus?"

"Feels like it," she hissed.

"Man, we gotta get you back to the base so Ratchet can have a look at ya," Wheeljack drawled.

"_**NO!**_" The Ferrari's rear wheels momentarily lost purchase in surprise at the ferocity of her voice, sending his back end briefly sideways and painfully jostling the already battered cyborg. "No way! Meds is _not_ touchin' me! I thought we already established that!"

"Well, I know you don't like medics and all, but this time, I think it would be wise for you to reconsider... "

She grunted and closed her eyes. "Just... let me know when we get back to the Lennox's ranch."

"Oh, I'm not taking you there, you need _real_ medical help."

"What I _need_, is Skyfire and a pair of pliers."

"Pliers?"

"For the cactus."

"Oh... I bet that hurts."

"You have no idea," she breathed through clenched teeth.

"I still think you should check in with Ratchet," he paused when she just hissed at him, "But I guess I'll just radio him to meet us at the ranch. He won't like it, though."

"Don't bother. He isn't needed."

"Huh. Right."

Wheeljack was quiet for a while, as he sent out various messages, one to Optimus reporting on what had happened to Natty, one to Ironhide alerting him to their approach, and one to Ratchet asking him to gather special tools and meet him at the Lennox's ranch. The last one was recieved much less than graciously and though he initially argued, the medic at last gave in, asking about her condition and what he may need to bring in terms of medical supplies. Over hearing the comunique, Bumblebee radioed in offering assistance in the form of himself and the two teens, Sam and Mikeala. The kids had struck up a repoire with the cyborg and may be of use persuading her to allow Ratchet's aide. Wheeljack heartily agreed, and directed the yellow scout, and company, to meet them at the Lennox's ranch.


	8. Save Me From Myself

**I would like to remind all readers that this story is written for enjoyment. Your criticism is welcome. Your hypocrosy and vengence toward my stance or my friends is not. If you would like to leave a review, please keep in mind that the story is written for enjoyment, mine and yours. It is not written and/or posted for The Real Ghost and company to uselessly point out what Microsoft Word lights up on thier computers. Often MS Word is mistaken, and you actually have to know and understand the English language as well as its grammatical structure to override these things. A friend recently passed on--via e-mail--a poem that was intentionally and drammatically incorrect, but edited with MS Word. It reminded me of ScienceTeacherSE's comments about how my story "lit up like a christmas tree" on her computer. You cannot rely on a computer to think _for _you. It is in everyone's best interest to actually use the God given gray matter between your ears and not try to find a lazy way out of self education. After all, "A mind is a terrible thing to waste." **

* * *

Save me from myself.

Ratchet sat on the grassy hill glaring daggers at the little cyborg, his help having been violently refused. The medic took this as a personal rejection, and resented it deeply. Wheeljack sprawled in the grass to his right; deeply concerned, watching the scene before them. Natty perched on a small foot stool in the middle of everyone, grinding her teeth and hissing with every painful movement. Bumblebee knelt behind the feisty young woman, trying unsuccessfully to help. Mikeala stood over her, carefully wielding a pair of pliers dug out of the tool box from Captain Lennox's garage, Sam standing at the teenage girl's side. Ironhide, arms folded across his broad chest, stood smugly watching from behind both medic and inventor, while Skyfire paced in agitation around the outskirts of the current activity. Optimus Prime, and Jazz had yet to arrive.

"Get away from me," Natty snarled at the yellow mech. His optics widened with confusion as she batted his hands away from the cactus spines sticking out of her back and shoulder. "This is _your_ fault, anyway!"

"How do you figure that?" Sam scowled at her, offended on his friend's behalf.

Gesturing at the painfully embedded needles, she growled, "This is all because of _him! _Barricade saw us--" Bumblebee stiffened at the Decepticon's name "--pal'ing around in the parking lot and decided to _remind _me who I belong to! That's what _all_ _this is!"_

"Wait," Wheeljack cut in, "I thought you said it was about surrendering to the Autobots."

"Yeah, well... I lied. It was retribution for chumming it up with _you two!" _She yelped as Mikeala yanked another cactus spine from her side. "Yee-oow!" Shooting the young girl a glare, she rubbed at the reddened spot where several needles had already been extracted from her flesh.

"Move your hand," Mikeala said lowly, brushing the mechanoid appendage away.

"I'm sorry you had to suffer like this," Skyfire finally spoke. The tall jet, winced as he watched Natty grit her bared teeth against another spine plucked. There was more to her spitefulness than simply blaming the Autobots for the treatment she had received. He sent a gentle prod into her thoughts, hoping she would explain.

Sorrowful eyes burned into his optics in response. _He left me,_ she replied. _He let me follow him until we got to the highway, and then he left me._

Skyfire stared, arms folded angrily across the opaque cockpit in his chest. Her betrayed feelings surged through the bridging of their minds alongside her words. _Didn't I warn you?_ Now may not have been the best time to chide her, but he desperately wanted to drive home the truth of Barricade's nature.

The cyborg's head dropped with a jerk as one more cactus spine was yanked from her shoulder. She hissed both out loud and into his mind._ It was retribution for me __leaving him. _He could feel the ache of her soul. She had forged a connection of sorts with her Decepticon mentor, and the rift was twisting her into knots. To finish what they had started here, she would not only have to leave the black and white mech completely, but also use and then betray him in ways that would destroy him. The tall jet wondered if she could handle that. Was she even capable of tearing apart the one she had developed such a fondness for.

_I don't really have much choice, do I?_ The thought she sent him cracked through with pain. _He will never change. Not for anyone. Not for me._ She sighed resignedly. _Time to let him go._

Skyfire nodded.

* * *

Most of the evening was spent extracting pieces of cactus from the injured cyborg, and Mikeala's hands were sore from clenching the pliers and pulling repeatedly. The hot mug of coffee brought out by Maggie Maddsen (sp?) served to soothe the raw skin and relax the stiff muscles in the young girl's hands, gratefully she wrapped them around the steaming warmth. Sarah sighed sorrowfully as she sipped her coffee. The three women were relaxing quietly in lawn chairs on the grassy hill. Most of the other Autobots had left when the excitement of watching a half human go through the agony of being de-cactused had ended.

Before the women stretched the massive form of Skyfire, laid out on his back, one hand behind his head, staring up with deep thoughtfulness into the darkened night sky. Draped along his chest, and to one side of the embedded cockpit, Natty reposed in a blissful partial oblivion, left arm dangling over her half-brother's side. The ever resourceful Maggie had passed some narcotic painkillers to Ratchet, who, after scrutinizing the substance carefully, gave his approval and tossed them _at,_ rather than to, Natty.

Bumblebee and Sam were engaged in a quiet game not far away. The soft sound of playing cards slapping a shaky table occasionally accompanied by a playful comment was the audible evidence of their continued presence.

"What do you think Barricade'll do to her the next time?" Sarah inquired. Natty turned unfocused eyes on the trio, but said nothing, seeming barely capable of following the conversation at present.

Maggie shrugged. "You don't think he's done enough?"

"_I_ do," Sarah snorted, "but _I'm_ not the Decepticon. Do you think he'll back off now?"

Maggie stared straight ahead, unsure.

Mikeala glared into her coffee. "I doubt it. Bee says Barricade is known for holding grudges."

"He will want to retrain her," Skyfire's voice rumbled, startling the women.

Sarah swallowed hard on her coffee, "What does _that_ involve?" She shivered as the large mech's red optics turned to her, his expression pained. Whatever it was, he didn't want to put it into words. She shook her head, trying to think of a better topic for discussion.

"Prosela... Proseh... Prosss... " Natty stammered. Scrunching her face in concentration, she tried again, "Hookers."

"Excuse me?" Sarah narrowed her eyes at the cyborg, wondering if that was an answer to her question or a drug induced accusation.

Maggie laughed. "What do hookers have to do with Barricade? He hardly seems the type!" She shot a sideways glance at Mikeala who perfectly understood the implied joke, mouthing one word back to her older friend, _Jazz._

Natty, scowled. "Trainin-nin... " She drew a deep breath and went on, "... retrain. Chase the hooker."

The three women stared at her, Mikeala and Maggie now sobered after their private joke. "Chase... " Natty repeated. Skyfire reached up with his free hand and gently covered the cyborg's back, whispering softly in Cybertronian. Natty raised her head to gave him a bleary eyed grin, "They wanna know," she slurred, then dropped her cheek back to his chest. "He l-l-likes to watch me kill," she closed her eyes as sleep began to creep up on her, "... likes it. Gets off on hunting... likes to..." a stretchy yawn escaped her, "play... chase the hooker." Skyfire whispered again, and Natty nodded groggily against his metal skin before drifting off completely.

"What was she talking about?" Mikeala dared to ask.

The large black face turned to study the young teenager. "Barricade has a penchant for seducing young waywards. He finds them on your Internet, in chat rooms and the like, and arranges to meet with them. He humiliates them before he kills. Natty believes he will arrange something of the sort with the intention that she should participate."

Maggie blanched, "That's um... gruesome."

Skyfire resumed gazing at the stars, " 'Gruesome' are the _details_ of his dalliances."

* * *

Lights were flashing against the walls of the parking garage. Red, Blue, White. Usually this would bring comfort to victims and strike fear into the hearts of criminals, but not this time. Watching the deceptive lights dance across the cement walls and crawl wickedly over the ceiling, Natty felt a sickening dread beat in tune with the fatal rhythm. She shifted her weight against the side of the black and white police cruiser, wondering what his frequent scans of her were leading him to believe.

He had indeed insisted on a retraining session, and now they waited, together, for their prey. The street walker should be along any minute now. She had been told to meet them on the lower floor of this multi-level parking garage on the less populated edge of town. The idea was to chase her to the top where they would "play" with her out under the stars. Barricade explained that it would be more terrifying for the victim, to be so visibly exposed and yet unable to be seen or heard.

The little cyborg flinched as a tingling sensation swept over her body, announcing yet another physical scan. She had turned off all her electronic counter measure devices to allow for his scans, but only to avoid suspicion. And more punishment. "That's annoying," she said flatly.

"Would you rather I download the information manually?" His gruff threat made her shiver. A manual download would involve being physically connected to him, his vindictive mind invading and searching her own, sorting through and examining each and every thought and feeling.

"No." She squeezed her eyes shut against the memory of the one and only time she had been through that experience. Brought on by a moment of defiance early in her initial training sessions with him, when she had refused to drop her defenses and allow for scans. He had forced her to the ground pinning her underneath his heavy body while he worked connectors into ports she didn't know he could find. Those hateful eyes had seen into her very soul and weighed every ounce of her existence, finding it lacking. He had whispered into her mind of her failures, then the angry tone changed to seduction as he described her potential and how he intended for her to serve him. It had been almost as enticing as it was terrifying. All too soon he had ripped the connectors out, severing the link and leaving her wanting to feel the addictive caress of his mind again. It had nearly broken her spirit. No, she definitely did not want to go through that again.

"What are you looking for anyway," she threw spitefully back at him.

"Quiet," he hissed over the distant clicking of stilettos on pavement.

Natty felt herself tense, casting a worried glance out through the entranceway in the direction of the sound. Being around the Autobots so much had caused her to lose some of her cold edge. Drawing a slow, deep breath, she rounded the front of the black and white Mustang to stand between the mech and the hooker. "I will not fail you, Lord Barricade," she whispered, more for herself than for him.

"See that you don't."

She needed to get into the mindset. _This is prey, plain and simple, _the familiar thoughts filled her mind._ Little more than an intelligent toy that was designed specifically to die tonight. _Any other way of thinking would earn Barricade's wrath, something she couldn't risk now with so much at stake. But more than that, a small part of her still wanted to please him, railed against betraying him. It would be so easy to just give in and return to that place she had held with him only weeks ago. That small part clung to his words from back then, sending them through her thoughts again, "_You drive me mad."_

"I will not fail you, Lord Barricade," she repeated more resolutely, her eyes following the shadowy figure slinking into the cement structure and toward the hunters. _Moth to a flame_, she thought. _Time to get burnt._ A wicked grin spread across her face, the rush of an impending hunt filling her little body with excited energy.

"You're late," Natty's voice echoed across the garage.

The slim figure regarded her for a moment before answering, "Who are _you?"_ The voice was a bit deep and husky for a woman, and the body was a little angular. Something was off here.

"His... assistant," Natty motioned for the hesitant shadow to come closer.

Obliging the request, the hooker stepped through shadows and dim entranceway lighting. "He didn't say anything about company."

Natty shrugged, watching carefully as the street walker swished forward, enunciating each step with swinging hips. There! Her eyes settled on the hooker's slender neck. This woman's adam's apple was _rather_ pronounced. The cyborg shot Barricade a mocking smile. Opening a private channel, she laughed through the comm, "Can't you tell the difference between male and female?"

"Doesn't matter, " he replied sternly, "the result is the same."

She shook her head and faced the slim hooker glaring down at her. The man, dressed as a woman, was fumbling with something under his black micro-skirt, just inside his thigh. Pretending not to notice, Natty, slipped around to his back, pressing against him and leaning her metallic cheek against the upper part of his left arm. She slid her hands around his waist and down his torso, trailing little kisses along his arm as she did so. Reaching between his thighs, she quickly grabbed the small gun hidden there and flung it across the ground in front of Barricade's strobing headlights.

"You won't be needing that," she whispered, "Wouldn't do you any good here, anyway." As she pulled one hand back up his thigh, her fingertips brushed something definitely _not_ feminine. He jumped and she snickered, trailing her fingers along his back as she pranced around to his front. Grinning slyly up at him she tossed her head back at the silent police cruiser, "He's a bit of a... voyeur. Likes to watch what I do to you first." She pulled the man's head down to hers, "Kiss me," she whispered lustily, "He's watching."

He bent stiffly to her at first, but his movements softened as the kiss deepened. Natty could almost taste his apprehension, the anxiety that would soon become out right fear. She drank this in passionately, running one hand across his clenched butt cheeks and pulling his hips against herself. Oh, yeah, he was afraid. She broke the kiss, keeping the man's mouth close to hers. "You need to run... " she breathed, kissing him with more fire this time. Pulling back again, she gazed up at him through slitted eyes, "... for your life." He stared at her, wide-eyed and alarmed. She gently nipped at his lower lip, "_Now_."

The man gave his head a slight shake, pushing her away, and whirled to run back down the ramp. Instead, he fell against the steaming hood of the Mustang. Natty laughed aloud while the hooker scrambled to pull himself off the vehicle that had silently repositioned itself to cut off any hope of escape. He straightened and twisted around to stare at her completely bewildered. In mocking helpfulness, she gestured up the ramp, and he raced off as best he could in high heels.

Sparing a wicked grin for Barricade, she dashed to the exterior wall, easily keeping pace with the hooker as she bounded over and around the scant few parked cars. When the two humans had reached the top of the first ramp, loud echoes of screaming tires fighting for purchase against the slick concrete chased them around the corner to the next ramp. "_Run!_" Natty taunted, "He's coming for you!"

"What?!" The man yelled, incredulous. Natty leaped from the hood of a parked car into an aerial somersault, landing directly behind the cross dresser as he ran, her hands brushing down his back. He let out a screech, that was followed by her vicious laughter. Headlights flickered across his running form and he stumbled, breaking the heel off one of his shoes. The panic rising in him, he kicked the shoes from both feet and launched himself barefoot up yet another ramp, the feral roar of a racing engine gaining ground with every step he took.

Natty's shadow streaked across the pavement as she ducked out of the sideways sliding Mustang's path. Heading for the inside wall, she loped alongside the breathless man running up the center of the incline toward the opening and the starry night sky above. He broke out onto the top of the parking garage, panting and frantically looking around for an escape of some type. The siren's "Whoop! Whoop!" and a flash of colored lights announced his mechanoid pursuer at the bottom of the final ramp. Blowing out a hard breath , he pushed himself into motion again, searching each vehicle and shrouded nook for a place to hide. He saw the shadow a split second before he felt the incredible weight of the small figure tackling him. They rolled across the empty parking spaces, coming to a rest with the cyborg atop.

She leered into his face, "Now, wasn't that fun?" Nodding to something behind him, "Look." Lifting off his chest, she allowed him to twist around and gaze upon the transforming Mustang's dark shape, rearranging itself into an impressive robotic form standing up in the moonlight. The man let loose a wordless scream. "What's the matter, lover?" Natty purred, "Does he frighten you?"

"I'm gonna die, aren't I?" The man faced her, terrified.

Eyes glinting in the pale night's natural light, she leaned down and kissed the soft dip between his neck and collar bone. He shuddered. She smiled sweetly, moving up to nip at the tender flesh under his jaw. "You've put on a good show," she breathed against his balmy skin. "He is... _pleased_."

"What are you gonna do to me? Am I gonna die?"

She pushed him backwards into a reclined position, his back arched, propped up on his elbows. The cyborg held him down by straddling his waist and pressing her knees onto his forearms. He gazed fearfully at her as she gently pushed his head back to hang upside down, facing the menacing Decepticon that slowly stalked toward them, the pavement trembling with each ground eating stride.

Leaning forward over his head, she soothed, "Relax. He's watching." She trailed her fingers along his cheek, down his neck, and over to the top button of his black satin shirt. He jumped with a squeak when he heard the swish of long blades being unsheathed from between her knuckles. She slipped the blades under the bottom of his shirt, pushing them further up along the gently separating material. The shirt fell open and she blew softly at the shredded tatters, encouraging them to slip off his exposed chest. The man shivered as the cool night air caressed his body.

Barricade knelt down over the pair, his face twisted into a wicked grin. Gazing up at the metal behemoth, the man began to tremble whispering, "Oh, God! I'm gonna die."

"Shhh," Natty cooed. "Relax... It'll be over soon... hush, now." She kissed softly at his neck again, and he jerked and pulled against her restraining grasp. His head came up, and she glared at him, roughly pushing his head back down. "Stay there," she demanded. Lifting her face to the looming Decepticon, she purred, "He's ready for you, my Lord Barricade."

The black and white mech's gaping grin deepened as he extended one razor edged claw to lightly rest on the man's rib cage, crimson optics locked onto panicked eyes. With a painstaking slowness, he drew the claw up so that the tip hovered just above the center of the hooker's chest where his heart beat wildly. Natty smiled sweetly up at her mentor, waiting for the Decepticon to begin. Barricade gently pressed the tip of that deadly claw down into the flesh, eliciting a terrified screech from the captive. Blood began to spurt out around the thin digit as it continued it's descent into the chest cavity of the struggling man.

Holding the now gurgling captive in place, Natty watched the gruesome death. As last the movements ceased, the claw having pressed all the way through chest, heart, and bone; it slipped out through the skin of the man's back. The body slumped backwards, collapsing in its own blood, swiftly pooling across the ground. Placing her hands on either side of Barricade's clawed digit, she held the body in place while he yanked himself free, splattering the sticky fluid across her face and chest, and into her hair.

Knowing her appearance was now garish, she grinned playfully up at the mech, and he snorted at her.

"Clean up." He did not bother to hide his satisfied smirk.

* * *


End file.
